


Choices

by Blueskydancers



Series: Secrets and Consequences [12]
Category: Lord of the Rings RPF, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Professionals
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Police, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-04-10 17:26:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 42,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4400834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueskydancers/pseuds/Blueskydancers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A routine operation for the Orlando and the Drugs Squad stops being routine when it collides with a case Sean is working on. The resultant fallout leaves Sean and Lan with some difficult choices to make.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place between October 1983 and February 1984

“Jesus, Sean, if you don’t stop making noises like that I’m going to come too soon,” Lan cursed. 

The room smelled of sweat and sex and as each thrust hit his prostate Sean barely managed to gasp, “Don’t blame me, you’re too bloody good at this.”

A smile touched Lan’s face briefly before he pushed in harder, resting his hands on the bed above Sean’s shoulders and almost bending him in half as he fucked him relentlessly, grunting with the force he was putting behind every stroke.

Jesus fuck! It felt so good. He was going to feel this for days.

When Lan grasped his cock in his fist, running the pad of his thumb over the head, Sean couldn’t hold out any longer. For a second he teetered on the edge and then plummeted over, painting his stomach and Lan’s hand with his release. 

Determined that Lan would come with him, Sean tensed the muscles in his arse, clenching as hard as possible around the steel-like flesh that still impaled him. Mouthing curses Lan pushed in once more and began to come, shuddering uncontrollably as his seed was forced into Sean's willing body. 

Watching Lan bite his lip, attempting to stifle the cries that were being torn from him by his orgasm Sean let his legs slide off his shoulders, allowing Lan to sink down until they were lying chest to chest both of them ignoring the come splattered between them. 

“Christ, I needed that.” Lan's face was buried in the pillow next to Sean and he felt the rumble of his words more than heard them.

Running his fingers through Lan's hair, Sean said, “I could tell.”

All too soon for Sean’s liking, Lan moved away, leaning down and grabbing a t-shirt from the floor to wipe them them both off. Once he was done he lay back down, resting his head on Sean’s shoulder. 

“So, I’m good then?” he mumbled around a yawn.

Sean laughed, “Jesus I’ve created a monster.” He swatted Lan on the arse. “Don’t be a twat, I don’t bottom for just anyone.” 

“Love that you will for me.” Lan sounded very sleepy and he kissed Sean’s shoulder before snuggling in again. 

“Yeah, I know.” 

Sean let his hand trail slowly up and down Lan’s back, marvelling again at the softness of his skin. Even after two years together he couldn’t believe his luck. Keeping their relationship a secret during that time had forced them to confide only in each other. It had meant they grew to know and understand each other very well. That intimate understanding now convinced Sean that something was bothering his lover. 

It would have been easier to drop the subject and relax into sleep himself but he knew that now was the best time to get Lan to open up, when he was relaxed and sated. He shook him slightly.

“Hey.”

“What?” Lan’s voice was slurred with tiredness. Sean wasn’t surprised; they’d both been working eighteen-hour days just recently.

“Something’s bothering you. You want to talk about it?”

Wearily, Lan pushed himself up on his elbow and gave Sean a glare. “What makes you think that?” 

He looked adorable, like a sulky child told they couldn’t have ice cream, but Sean knew better than to laugh. “Well, for starters, there was the way you slammed the door when you got home, the very large drink you poured and forgot to drink and then there was the way you dragged me off to bed and fucked me through the mattress. You think I’ve forgotten anything?”

A wry smile twisted Lan’s lips. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

“It is to me.” Sean waited for Lan to say something. He would wait as long as it took because the man sharing his bed meant everything to him.

Lan ducked his head and groaned. “Shit, Sean, I’m being a twat. It isn’t any one thing. This current job is getting to me; we’ve been watching Houlton's for weeks and haven't found anything to go on yet.”

“I thought it was a straight forward, watch, wait and catch them in the act type thing. You nick them with the drugs and because they're low down on the food chain you make them squeal for more lenient sentences. It’s nothing we didn’t do when you were with the Squad.”

“I know. But being the one in charge is different when you’re not making any progress; you’re responsible for the wasted man-hours.” 

Sean opened his mouth to speak but Lan interrupted him.

"Yeah I know, you’ve been there and done that. Maybe I'm just fed up because the job has changed. You remember, when I started in Drugs they let me go out undercover because I was the new face and no one knew me. Now, since George Carter's come on board, I’ve spent most of my time behind a bloody desk. I know that's a big part of police work but if I don't get out a bit more I'm going to go crazy.”

His instincts warred with his feelings as Sean tried to work out how to avoid upsetting Lan any further. He was in no doubt that Lan was being wasted on paperwork, he was too good a copper. But having him stuck behind a desk made Sean a hell of a lot happier. At least behind a desk he was safe. The worry he'd experienced the night Lan had got mixed up in a drug bust gone wrong had cost Sean at least five years of his life.

“I’m sorry for being such a whiner, Sean. I’m just fed up. I’ve spent the past four weeks looking at reports and the shipping manifests for Houlton’s trying to find out who’s financing these deals. If I don’t find the connection then we don’t have a case, but if I have to look at another bloody piece of paper I think I’ll go crazy. George Carter is nagging me about the waste of time and effort too; he let me go with this in the first place, but with no results he thinks we ought to move on to something else.”

“You don’t?”

“No, I know there’s something to find here.”

“Where are the manifests coming from? You got someone on the inside?”

“Yeah, a snout called Chas, it was him contacting me that started the whole thing off. He’s working in the office – I think they let him make the tea and sweep up – anyway he’s keeping his eyes and ears open and, because he gets in before the lazy bastards who work there most mornings, he's making copies of anything that looks interesting.”

Deciding to make light of it, Sean suggested, “You could always apply to transfer back to the Sweeney.”

Lan’s lips curved into a smile before he said, “Do you honestly think we could do that and keep our relationship secret? It was tough enough keeping my hands off you in the office before we started living together. Now I’m even more addicted to you. Imagine if we were together all day, every day. It’d only be a matter of time before they caught us fucking in the stationery cupboard or the file store.”

Sean laughed. “You’re right. But if they did find us, I’d have to make sure that it was me on top. After all, I have the reputation of a hard bastard to maintain.”

His tiredness apparently forgotten, Lan moved over him fully, aligning their bodies. “Well, in that case, as you have a reputation to maintain, you should practice being a ‘hard bastard’ right about now.” 

Moving quickly, Sean reversed their positions so that he was lying over the slighter man. He rubbed his now rigid cock against Lan’s thigh. 

“This hard enough for you?”

“Oh yeah…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, feeling very well shagged, Sean made a point of getting up early enough to cook them both breakfast. He was sure that a good, old-fashioned full English would cheer Lan up and make him feel better. He’d just put the loaded plates on the table when Lan came into the kitchen, still buttoning his shirt.

“Hey, this looks good.” Then he clapped his hand to his forehead. “Shit! Don’t tell me I forgot my birthday again and this is your way of reminding me?”

It was an old joke between them. 

“Wanker, you know that I know your birthday’s in January and it’s only October.” Sean put two full mugs of coffee on the table as well. “Go on then, sit down and get stuck in.”

They both sat and ate in silence for a time, concentrating on their food. When the phone rang, Sean reached over to answer it.

“Bean.” He managed to get the words out around a mouthful of sausage. He could hear the noisy crackles on the line and guessed it was a call from a squad car patched through to the home phone.

“Morning, guv. Sorry to call you so early but we’re on our way over to pick you up.”

Sean could see Lan looking at him questioningly.

“What’s up, Dave?”

“Tommy Adams was hit two hours ago, someone firebombed his house, killed him, his missus and the kids.”

“Shit! Were the Coopers involved?”

“Don't have any more information yet, guv. I wanted to let you know that I'm on my way over with Harry, we’ll be there in about fifteen minutes as long as the traffic co-operates.”

“Okay, I’ll be waiting.” 

He put the phone down.

“What’s going on?” Lan questioned, his voice concerned.

“A bloody turf war. You remember the Adams family from Clerkenwell?” At Lan’s nod Sean continued. “As you’re aware they’ve gone up-market the past few years, instead of protection they’re moving into drugs and are trying to muscle in on the Cooper family’s turf. We’ve had three beatings, a kneecapping and a stabbing in the past five days, so it’s escalating. Of course, the bloke who got stabbed is not talking…”

“Bloody typical.”

“Yeah, well Dave’s on his way over to pick me up early because someone hit Tommy Adams, the second oldest brother, last night, and they got his wife and two kiddies as well.”

Sean picked up his plate and emptied the rest of his breakfast into the bin, his appetite gone. He stood leaning against the sink looking out of the window. When he spoke his voice was low and he wasn’t sure whether he was talking to Lan or himself. “Most days I want to let the buggers get on with it and hope they murder each other. But when innocent people get hurt or killed, then I want to murder them myself.”

“How long till Dave gets here?” Lan abandoned his own food and came over and lent against him, one arm around his waist.

“Ten minutes or thereabouts.”

After a brief tightening of his arm, Lan let go.

“My driver Don will be here in a few so I'll be out of your hair. You can mention something about me not being home all night if you like. That should help cement the idea that I’m off shagging women at every available opportunity.”

Hearing a note of bitterness in Lan’s voice, Sean caught his hand and pulled him close again. Kissing him almost chastely, he wanted to convey the knowledge that he cared rather than anything sexual. When Sean looked into his lover’s eyes he said, “Don’t forget, I love you.”

“I know. Sorry for still being in a shitty mood.”

"It happens, so don't worry about it and I’ll see you later."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sean learns something interesting and Lan meets with an informant.

Sean walked back to the empty car and slumped down in the front passenger seat. An over eager uniformed local made to come over to him and Sean saw Harry, his driver, gesture angrily at him to wait. 

As much as he liked to foster the reputation of being a hard bastard Sean would never get used to the sight of dead kiddies. By some quirk, Tommy Adams’ children hadn’t been touched by the fire that destroyed most of the house; they’d suffocated instead. Some small consolation had been the fact that Sean hadn’t been the only copper, or fireman for that matter, who’d looked sick at the sight of the two small bodies. Sean rubbed at his face; his clothes stank of smoke. He needed another shower, he mused absently. He also needed to stop this turf war before he had to see the bodies of any more children. 

His mind made up he took a deep breath and shouted, “Harry!” 

Harry materialised at his side instantly, “Yes, guv?” 

“Get Dave for me. We’re going to talk to Reggie Cooper.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Sean shoved past the bouncer waiting at the door of the sleazy drinking club, closely followed by Dave, leaving Harry waiting outside in the narrow Soho street to look after the car. Pushing through the double doors into the club proper they strolled over to the bar. The barman was standing with his back to the door but he didn’t even turn round when Sean sat on one of the high bar stools.

“I want to see Reggie.” 

Either the guy didn’t recognise them as coppers or he was being cocky, but he didn’t acknowledge Sean's words, just shrugged and carried on polishing glasses. 

"I said, I want to see Reggie. Are you deaf or just plain fucking stupid?" Sean snapped, his already short temper ready to explode. He turned to his skipper, "I think he's asking for a kicking? What do you think, Dave?" 

"I think he needs to learn some manners, guv," Dave offered. 

Still pushing his luck, the barman answered, but his tone was dismissive, “The boss is busy.” 

He turned, probably to see just how his reply had been received and in a lightning-fast move, Sean lunged over the bar and grabbed the man by the front of his shirt, pulling him forward so that his head hit the bar with a thunk. The glass he’d been holding spun out of his hands, dropping onto the floor with a crash, the sound echoing hollowly around the empty room. 

“Right, stop being a tosser. I want to see Reggie, so unless you want to find yourself down the nick and charged with wasting police time, go and get him for me.” Sean wound his other hand into the barman's collar and he began to flail around. Sean hoped it was because he was having trouble breathing. “You got that?” Sean shook him again. 

“Yeah,” the gasping man finally managed. 

Sean shoved him back and he fell over, before scrambling to his feet and heading through a concealed doorway at the other end of the bar. He was back in moments followed by a well-dressed man in his mid forties. 

Dave spoke softly so that only Sean could hear him. "I'll go and wait outside with Harry, guv, to give you a bit of space."

He’d been lucky to find a skipper like Dave to replace Lando. Dave was quick on the uptake and was usually able to read Sean’s intentions, which made Sean’s life a hell of a lot easier. Deliberately keeping Reggie Cooper waiting a little longer, Sean nodded, “Okay, thanks.” 

When he was good and ready, Sean turned. Cooper had aged since Sean had last seen him and he’d definitely put on weight. His face was flushed red which made Sean wonder just how much he was boozing. 

“Mr Bean. Good to see you again.” He held out his hand to Sean, who took it reluctantly. Every time he met villains like Cooper he wanted to bathe in carbolic. 

“Reggie.” 

Reggie Cooper gestured at the bar. “Get Mr Bean a drink, Raymond.” 

Sean shook his head. “It’s a bit early for me.” After what he’d been through that morning, Sean would have liked a drink but he wasn’t taking one from a slag like Cooper. The sight of Tommy Adams' dead kids was still too raw in his mind. 

A glass chinked on the bar and Reggie lifted it to his lips. “You’re missing a particularly good malt, Mr Bean.” 

Loosing his façade of patience, Sean snapped. “Cut the crap, Reggie. You know why I’m here.” 

A slimy smile appeared on Cooper’s face. “I’m afraid I don’t.” 

In Sean's opinion, Cooper was a lying fucker who couldn't tell the truth if his life depended on it and he was sorely tempted to hit him just for the hell of it, but he restrained himself. For the moment, he contented himself with getting right in Cooper's face. 

“Okay, Reggie, play stupid if you want. I’ll spell it out for you this time but don’t think I’m going to make it a habit. I’ve just come from Tommy Adams' house.” 

“Yeah, I’d heard someone topped him. Good news always travels fast.” Reggie sniffed. “I thought you’d be pleased, I hadn’t figured you for going soft, Mr Bean.” 

Sean felt his anger building again. “Don’t start, Reggie or you’ll find out just how soft I’m feeling. Tommy is no loss to society and his missus was up to her neck in the family business so I’m not too broken up about either of them, but the Fire Brigade were just bringing out the bodies of his kiddies when I got there. They were babies and not part of your fucking turf war. I’m not going to put up with any more innocents getting hurt. If you and your brothers want to take on the Adams men then so be it. I’ll even make sure the six of you are not disturbed so you can kick each other’s heads in, in peace. But I’ll not let anyone else suffer for your stupidity.” Sean waited a beat. “And this is your last warning. The next time I’ll turn up with a squad and I’ll go out of my way to make sure that you all go down for a very long time.” Sean eyed Reggie speculatively. “Am I making myself clear?” 

Without answering Sean, Reggie looked at Raymond. "Go and check the cellar, Raymond." 

"But I've just been down there, Mr Cooper," Raymond whined. 

“Piss off. I'm telling you the lager barrel needs changing, so go and do it!” 

Sean waited until Raymond had disappeared out of sight, letting the older man save face in front of his hired help for now. If Reggie screwed him over, Sean would be back landing on him with both feet. It didn't mean he was going to make it easy for him either. “Talk to me, Reggie, I don’t have all day. If you know who was responsible for firebombing Tommy Adams, then I want them.” 

Reggie dropped his cocky manner. “I honestly can’t finger anyone for it, Mr Bean. I know you think my family were responsible, but we weren’t. I don’t want to see kids killed either; I’ve got a couple of my own. I’ve heard a bit of a rumour though, no proof, just a whisper here and there. I heard that Tony and Tommy fell out over going into drugs big time and that maybe Tony is responsible for topping his own brother.” 

“Jesus! His own brother and his family? I always knew Tony Adams was a cold bastard, but I thought Harry was the crazy one.” 

“If I get anything else I’ll let you know, Mr Bean. I didn’t want to say anything in front of Raymond; he’s only been here for a couple of months and I’m not too sure he’s not a plant from Tony Adams.” 

“Why don’t you fire him if you don’t think you can trust him?” 

“I like the idea that I can control the information I feed to Adams,” Reggie gave Sean a shark’s smile. “It makes life interesting.” 

Sean turned towards the door and muttered under his breath, “That kind of interesting I could really do without!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Throwing the manifest onto the pile of similar pieces of paper, Lan looked at his watch. Half past eleven. Shit! He was going to go round the bend before tea time if he had to keep on doing this. Fortunately relief was at hand. He looked across the small office to where his skipper, Rob Newman, was sitting at a similar desk holding a huge pile of papers. Physically he and Rob were alike in appearance but the similarities stopped there as Rob was more than ten years his senior. Fortunately, he was not particularly ambitious, being content to remain a DS. He also wasn’t married but he’d never given Lan any indication that he was into men. He was also not much bothered by having a guv’nor who was younger than himself. In the months they'd worked together they'd managed to forge a good working relationship.

It was hard to keep the relief out of his voice when Lan told the other man, “I’ve got a meeting with Chas in half an hour, can you carry on searching through the property records? We really need to find out who owns this company." 

Lan was almost certain he heard Rob swear under his breath but aloud he said, “Thanks a bunch, guv.” 

“My pleasure, Rob." Lan smiled for what felt like the first time in a couple of hours. "Let's face it though, I must be desperate to get a break if I'm looking forward to meeting with Chas.” 

"There is that. Maybe he'll have had a bath since the last time you saw him. You never know." 

Lan grimaced at Rob for reminding him, Chas' personal hygiene left a lot to be desired. "No chance, it's not his birthday for another couple of months." 

Leaving the office, Lan made his way to the car park to pick up his car and Don, his driver. 

They were about a quarter of a mile from the pub when Lan said. "Okay, if you drop me here you’re far enough away from the pub to be able to wait around until I get back.” 

"Sure thing, guv." Don picked up a copy of The Sun from the floor of the car. "I'll read the paper while I'm waiting." 

Lan snorted. “Read? I thought the only reason people bought that rag was to look at the pictures.” 

"We can't all be Guardian readers, guv, Don said, unperturbed. 

Ignoring Don's ribbing, Lan walked quickly along Bidder Street, turning left along Wharf Street. He reached The Durham Arms which stood on the corner of Stephenson Street and pushed open the door into the saloon bar. He frowned as the stale smell of beer and sweat assailed his nostrils. Shit! Ten years in the force meant he wasn’t delicate, but he really wished that his informant had some taste as well as a better appreciation of the merits of soap and water. Unfortunately this miserable excuse for a local suited Chas Wilkins to a tee. He'd made the mistake of suggesting they sit outside in the beer garden on one meet and the noise from the nearby Jubilee Line trains and the Canning Town flyover had made speech impossible. Now they stuck to meeting inside and Lan tried to ignore the smell that clung to the ancient pub furnishings and the dark brown stains on the ceiling from decades of cigarette smoke. 

As Chas wasn’t there yet, Lan went up to the bar and ordered a beer. Ignoring the fingerprints on the glass and telling himself they were most likely on the outside and that making a fuss would only draw attention, he moved over to a table in the corner where he could see what was going on and remain pretty much unnoticed. 

Taking small sips, Lan tried to make the beer last, drinking at lunchtime wasn't something he liked to do unless he ate and he was convinced that a dose of botulism would be a dead cert if he touched anything they served here. He wondered idly if the locals were immune or if they used the food for population control. 

He didn’t have long to wait until Wilkins arrived. Fortunately Chas had learned to tone it down. At their first meeting, his exaggerated checking to see if anyone was watching them had convinced Lan that they’d be rumbled right off. So far though, Chas had been a valuable source. His information had checked out and the copies of manifests he’d been passing over were genuine. Background checks had meant that Lan knew that the shambling man sitting across from him was unmarried and still living at home with his mother, an elderly woman who had ruled the house with a rod of iron since her husband, Chas’ father, had died in an accident on the Royal Albert Docks. 

Chas bought himself a pint, and clutching the beer and a plastic carrier bag, came over to sit at the table. “Hello, Lan. Good to see you again.” 

“Chas. How’s it going?” 

“Not too bad, work’s getting busier again.” 

“Really? Anything I might find interesting?” 

“Maybe. I’ve got some more copies of the paperwork in the bag, but,” Chas lowered his voice and squeezed closer to Lan. The resulting waft of body odour made Lan wince. “I overheard a phone call the other day, while I was sweeping up in the office, which you might find interesting.” Chas took a mouthful of beer and managed to spray most of it over the table when he said, “I’m going to get myself a pie, you want one?” 

“No thanks. I’ll do for now, I had a big breakfast.” 

Even though the pub was sparsely occupied, Lan took another careful look around. After concluding that no one was paying too much attention to them, he sat back and waited. He knew that there was no point rushing Chas; he’d divulge his information in his own time. All Lan could do was put up with the smell and disgusting table manners. He did wonder sometimes though, knowing how tough old Mrs Wilkins was, if Chas behaved the same at home or if this was his sole act of rebellion. 

Eventually Chas came back clutching a chipped white plate, which had something in the centre of a pool of congealing gravy, in one hand, and some bent cutlery in the other. 

“So what have you got for me?” Lan tried, vainly hoping to shorten the meeting. 

Chas took a big forkful of the pie and managed somehow to speak and chew at the same time. “I heard Mr Jones, the office manager, talking on the phone this morning and from what he said the person on the other end was important. It was as though he was taking orders, you know what I mean?” 

“So what was said that you could hear?” Lan sipped some more beer to give himself something to do and to help resist the temptation to give Chas a bloody good shake to hurry him up. 

Chas shovelled in some more of the pie and then wiped his mouth on his coat sleeve. “He was talking about a new delivery on the nineteenth. Which is odd, because no one’s mentioned it before and it’s only next week. They usually plan at least a month in advance to make sure they can get the closest berths and get the customs stuff sorted. Anyway, Mr Jones said that he would make sure the shipment was unloaded by a special crew and that there would be a truck waiting to take Mr Adams’ cargo straight to his other warehouse.” 

“Did he say anything else?” 

“Yeah, and this is what made me think it might be important. He said that he was sorry to hear the news about Mr Adams’ family and that he hoped those responsible would be taken care of.” Chas looked thoughtful. "I wasn't sure what Mr Jones meant by that at first but now I don't think he meant Mr Adams to pay them or anything like that. More likely he wanted something bad done to them as revenge like. I'm really hoping that's important and that it might be worth a bit extra this time as me mum's not too well." 

Fucking hell! Sean had only mentioned Tony Adams that morning, how much of a coincidence was that? Lan put his hand into his pocket, pulling out several notes and sliding them, with difficulty, across the sticky table to Chas. 

“Yeah right, here’s the money I owe you. I've added a bit as interest,” Lan said distractedly. He picked up the bag of papers Chas had bought with him as he stood. Suddenly feeling a cold chill across his back, he grabbed Chas’ shoulder and squeezed. “You take care of yourself, mate, and I’ll be in touch soon.” 

“Sure thing.” Chas looked at the table, spotting Lan’s unfinished pint. “As you’re not drinking it, can I finish your beer?” 

Giving the obviously unfussy man a nod, Lan headed out of the pub.

He covered the distance back to where Don was parked deep in thought. How should he work this? Entering a phone box nearby, he dialled the number for the squad, waving Don closer through the glass. 

When the switchboard answered, he asked to be put through to DI Bean. 

Sean answered after a couple of rings. “Bean.” 

“It’s me. I’ve just got some info and we need to meet. I think our cases might have just collided.” 

“Okay. Where?” 

Lan thought for a moment, there had to be a better bloody pub in the area. “I’m out east at the moment. Can you meet me at The Anchor in Canning Town?” 

“Yeah, give me half an hour.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We need to work together on this, Sean. I’m positive there is something nasty going on at Houlton's and I just know that Tony Adams is up to his neck in it. And you know as well as I do that any sort of inter-squad rivalry is going to be playing into Adams' hands.”

Lan looked at his watch as Don stopped the car outside the pub: half past three. There was no telling how long it would be until Sean turned up so he leaned back in through the car window and grabbed the newspaper Don had been reading earlier. 

“You might as well get back to the office, Don. I’m not sure how long I’m going to have to wait for DI Bean so I'll scrounge a lift home with him if it's too late for me to come back to the office. If not, I can always get a cab.” 

Don nodded. “Okay, guv. Shall I let Rob know what's happening?” 

Lan thought for a minute, before answering, “Yeah, but tell Rob not to say anything to Carter unless he asks where I am and, if he does, then make something up. Just keep it vague. I want to be sure there's a definite connection between the Adams family and the drugs shipments before I go public with this.” 

"Righto." 

"Oh and Don..." 

"Yeah?" 

Lan had to smile at Don’s long suffering sigh.

"Tell Rob to try changing his search criteria to look for properties owned by Tony Adams or any of his family." 

"Yes, guv." 

Waving Don away, Lan walked into the pub and ordered a pint of bitter, confident he would get a clean glass this time. Fortunately, the place wasn’t crowded, so he took his drink, sat down at a small table where he could keep an eye on the door and began to glance at the paper. He was half way down the pint when Sean came through the doorway. Even though Lan had never doubted Sean's feelings for him, the hot look his lover gave him as soon as he saw him was enough to make Lan's pulse race and his cock start to sit up and take notice. Sean gestured, asking if he wanted another drink and, at his nod, Sean crossed to the nearly empty bar. He was soon back holding two glasses. 

Sean sat and keeping his voice low said, “How’re you doing now?” 

“Better.” Lan replied, “I got some information this morning that might get us somewhere and that you might find interesting too.” 

Clutching at his chest, Sean said, “Oh, so you didn’t want to meet just because you missed me? I’m hurt.” 

“Wanker!” 

Sean leaned closer and murmured, “Yep and it’s all your fault. You have me on edge the entire bloody time. The only way I can make it through the day is to jack off at least twice.” 

Lan found it hard to ignore Sean's suggestive comments. He'd had nearly two pints already that afternoon with no lunch and that always lowered his inhibitions. If they weren’t careful they were going to end up doing something unethical in the gents, and while that wasn’t a totally unheard of occurrence for the two of them, now wasn’t really the time or place. Getting caught fucking in a gent's toilet in a pub in Canning Town could lead to all sorts of unpleasant consequences. Anyway, they needed to concentrate on the job at hand, or hand job his mind helpfully supplied, which didn't help in the slightest. 

“Okay, enough,” Lan smirked. “I’ve got some information to share and I think we are going to need to meet with your boss and mine. The last thing we can afford is to turn up to the meeting, hot, sweaty and smelling of come.” 

“I’d wash me hands before we met them or at least make you lick them clean,” Sean offered. 

Lan groaned, “Please no more or we’ll fuck and then, assuming we avoid getting caught, we'll need to go home and shower before we can get this sorted.” 

Sean nodded, glad that Lan seemed more back to his old self. “Okay, spoilsport, what’ve you got for me?” 

Lan grinned at yet more unintentional innuendo as he pulled out his notebook and looked at the notes he’d made in the car on the way to the pub. 

“I think I mentioned this morning that I was meeting with my informant? Well, he's told me he overheard a phone call about a cargo arriving on the nineteenth. He's not seen any paperwork for it or heard anyone being asked to book a berth. Admittedly, he isn't responsible for that himself but he said he hadn't seen it on any of the paperwork he's been looking through. Then the manager, Jones, said that he would make sure the shipment was unloaded by a specific crew and that there would be a truck waiting to take Mr Adams’ consignment straight to his warehouse. Then Jones said something to Adams about being sorry for the news about his family and getting back at those responsible, I could only think of the Adams killings you were talking about this morning. Is it possible it’s the same family and not a huge coincidence?” 

Sean looked thoughtful for a minute. “It has a nasty smell that I associate with those bastards. I know they are branching out into drugs and they are getting them from somewhere. Can you expand your search and see if you can find a firm link between Houlton’s and the Adams?” 

Lan took a sip of his beer before answering. “I've already got Rob working on that. The thing is, Carter is likely to haul us off this case in the next couple of days if we don't find something concrete. I think he's just waiting for an excuse and he's not going to listen no matter how many theories I have." 

"So what's your plan?" Sean tilted his head to one side and waited for Lan to answer. 

Lan thought for a moment. "I want you to talk to your boss to see if there is a way we can work together on this. Maybe form a task force or something with the sole aim of taking down the Adams family. If he agrees then I'll talk to Carter. He's less likely to refuse if he thinks the Sweeney will get all the credit if there turns out to be some truth in my ideas and we don’t do anything." 

"You're going to need something interesting to get Jack Cartwright to even consider spending his budget on it. I also get the feeling that he likes George Carter about as much as I like that bugger Halliwell." 

"We need to work together on this, Sean. I’m positive there is something nasty going on at Houlton's and I just know that Tony Adams is up to his neck in it. And you know as well as I do that any sort of inter-squad rivalry is going to be playing into Adams' hands.” 

“Yeah, I do." Sean nodded and took a mouthful of beer before continuing, "I heard something interesting from Reggie Cooper this morning. It was strictly off the record, but he denied that his family had anything to do with the killing of Tommy Adams. He fingered big brother Tony instead. Apparently they fell out over moving up in the drugs business.” Sean thought for a moment and then went on, “Tell you what, I’ll give Jack Cartwright a call, tell him what we've found so far and see if he thinks we can make this work. He’s usually pretty reasonable and is probably getting it in the neck from the assistant commissioner about kids being murdered in their beds, so he’ll go with anything that helps find those responsible. It's your boss who is likely to be the problem.” 

"Yeah I know." Moving slightly closer, Lan let his hand rest on Sean's thigh under the table. 

Sean took a shaky breath. "Jesus, Lan, don't start something you're not willing to follow through on here. Because I have no restraint where you're concerned." 

Smiling Lan nodded. "Okay, sorry. I know I was the one telling you to behave yourself earlier. I didn't mean to make it hard for you." 

In a low voice Sean said, "Honestly, Lan, you only have to walk in the room and I'm hard. And believe me, it's all for you." 

Rendered breathless by Sean's absolute honesty, it took Lan a while to regain his self-control. Finally he asked, “Okay, how are we going to play this? What’re you going to tell Cartwright? Why did I know about your investigation when we’re not supposed to talk about work? After all, even though they all know that we’re sharing a house, we’ve made it clear that one or other of us is always elsewhere shagging anything that moves.” 

Sean dismissed his objection with a wave, telling Lan, “Simple. You saw the reports of the fire-bombing at Tommy Adams’ place in the paper and it’s obvious that the Sweeney will be called in to investigate because of the turf war aspect, so when you had the tip about the family’s involvement in your case, you gave me a call.” 

Lan thought through Sean's suggestion, looking for holes in his reasoning. Finding none, he said, “Okay. Sounds feasible. Make the call.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sean and Lan's bosses meet and the identity of the copper being paid by Adams is revealed.

Sean watched as Jack Cartwright, paced around the waiting room, giving an excellent impression of a caged tiger. Blond, blue eyed and as tall and broad as Sean, it only took a couple of strides for him to cover the length of the room. Sean slumped in an uncomfortable upright chair and ignored him, trying instead to make sense of the notes he and Lan had made the night before. Cartwright stopped pacing abruptly and looked at Sean, his piercing stare was unnerving and convinced Sean that somehow his boss knew more about his and Lan’s relationship than he was letting on. 

“You’re sure about your information, Sean? Just because Bloom was your DS when he was in the squad, doesn't mean we can afford to go out on a limb.” 

“Yes, guv. Lando - sorry, that’s Bloom - has been digging into Houlton’s for a while now and his snout has always given him accurate information. If he says he thinks that the Adams are involved then I believe him.” 

“Okay. We've got this far, we have to go ahead with it. Pulling out now would only make us look like prats.” Cartwright ran a hand through his too long hair leaving it dishevelled. He lowered his voice, “But we both know that Detective Chief Superintendent Jennings is an evil bastard and if we make him look foolish he'll have our bollocks. We’ll be lucky to even end up on traffic duty for the next decade.” 

It went without saying that Sean’s trust of Lan’s copper’s instincts was unparalleled but he wasn’t sure just how to convince Cartwright. After all, he’d joined the squad after Lan had moved to Drugs and didn’t know him personally. 

“It’ll be okay. Lan’s guv’nor is willing to work with us. If we tell Jennings it makes more sense and saves money to combine our investigations, he'll go for it. He'd be daft not to, especially as we'd be tripping over each other's arses and looking bloody stupid if we didn't." 

Sean didn't think it would help matters or make Cartwright more amenable if he explained just how much time and arm twisting it had taken for Lan to get George Carter to just agree to attend this meeting. 

Jack snorted. “George Carter willing to put himself out? That'll be the day.” 

When Jack started pacing again, Sean checked his watch for the fourth time since they'd entered the room. It was ten minutes until their appointed time slot and he prayed that Lan and his boss arrived soon; apart from everything else, Jennings was old school and a stickler for punctuality. They'd gain nothing by pissing him off. 

Fortunately, his fears were unfounded, as less than two minutes later, the door to the waiting room opened and Lan and George Carter were ushered in by Jennings' secretary. 

Sean had never met George Carter before, but the man didn't even have to open his mouth for Sean to understand why Lan found him a pain in the arse. His whole demeanour spoke of someone waiting out his time until retirement. That Lan had been able to persuade him to risk coming to this meeting was therefore doubly impressive. Looking at him Sean found it hard to credit that Carter was only a little over fifty. His greying hair and stocky build, emphasised how much younger and fitter Lan appeared. As Sean studied him, Carter's expression of distaste didn't alter giving him the air of someone who found himself mixing with those far beneath him. Sean knew for a fact that wasn't the case as he'd heard from Lan that Carter had been born and brought up in the East End of London. 

Lan nodded in Sean’s direction and then pointed at Carter. “Sean, this is my boss, George Carter.” He looked to Carter. “Guv, this is Sean Bean, my old DI and his boss Jack Cartwright.” 

Carter nodded. “Jack and me know each other.” He leaned towards Sean and said quietly enough not to be heard outside the small room. “I’ve heard about your way of working, Bean; I’ve heard that you’re a bit unorthodox." 

Cartwright interjected, “Don’t be an arse, George. Because Bean and Bloom know each other we've got some good information which, if we work together, will put a bunch of evil scroats behind bars where they belong, and keep some nasty stuff off the streets. At the end of the day that’s a result we all want.” 

Sean saw Lan lift his shoulders slightly. Oh well, that must be normal behaviour for Carter then; acting like a complete wanker. It only made Sean happier that he didn’t work for the man or he’d have been up on a charge of insubordination within the first week. 

Lan came and took the chair next to his, using their proximity as an excuse to rest his arm and leg against Sean’s. The sensation took Sean back to the night before; after sorting out the notes for today, they’d gone to bed and made love rather than fucked. It had been slow and intense and Sean had never felt their connection so strongly. Fortunately he was snapped out of his enjoyable reverie, before he could embarrass himself, when Jennings’ secretary stuck her head around the door and said, “Detective Chief Superintendent Jennings will see you all now, gentlemen.”

Taking a deep breath, Sean followed the others into the meeting room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

George Carter pulled up the collar of his jacket as the wind whistled around the corner of St James’s church steps. It was almost dark and Clerkenwell Close and the nearby Clerkenwell Green were deserted. Not surprising really given the chill in the air and the time of year.

He'd been waiting nearly fifteen minutes and he wondered if anyone was actually going to show up. Was Adams going to hang him out to dry now? Maybe he ought to start planning more seriously for early retirement. After the meeting with Jennings and the others this morning, the bungalow he’d bought in Marbella was looking more and more inviting. Why was he standing here, freezing his nuts off, when he could be sitting outside a bar in autumn sunshine, drinking sangria? 

He checked his watch again, trying to decide how much longer to wait before abandoning this meet, knowing at the same time that the consequences of doing just that could be dire. 

A large, flashy car pulled up suddenly; its almost silent approach masked by the howling of the wind. Carter recognised it and the driver, and when the back door opened he could see Tony Adams relaxing against the plush upholstery, lit dimly by the interior light. 

Adams gestured him over. “Get in. It’s brass monkey weather out there.” 

Carter climbed in and sat down, immediately sinking into the thick seat cushions, but he knew the comfort was an illusion. 

“So, George, what have you got for me?” Adams asked, his voice low and for the moment pleasant. Tony Adams didn’t need to shout to get people to listen; he had clout and knew it. 

“There might be a problem, Mr Adams.” George felt the temperature in the car drop by at least ten degrees as soon as the words left his mouth. 

“A problem, George? Isn’t that why I pay you shitloads of money? To take care of problems?” 

“Yes, I know, Mr Adams. But it’s more complicated because it isn't just the Drugs Squad who are involved this time.” 

“What?” Adams fixed him with a hard stare. “I think you need to explain.” 

“My boys have been ordered to work with a squad from the Sweeney led by that mad bastard Bean. Jennings has authorised us to set up a task force with the sole purpose of taking you down.” 

“Why?” The one word question was snapped out in a voice colder than a Siberian winter. 

“My DI got a tip off linking you to his investigation into Houlton’s and Bean was already working on your feud with the Coopers. They got talking about Tommy's death and somehow they put two and two together. Now that Bloom has a name to go on he's going to be able to work his way through the maze of dummy companies you own and confirm that you are using Houlton’s shipments to bring in the drugs. He’s ex-Sweeney and he’s convinced that combining our forces is the best way to build a solid case.” 

“The only solid thing he’s going to get is a bullet in the head if you can't persuade him to leave this alone. I've got the biggest shipment yet due in next week and I do not need nosy coppers poking their noses into my business.” 

He had nothing to say so Carter stayed silent, waiting, and as he watched Adams seemed to come to a decision. 

“Your DI, can he be sorted?” 

George considered his response carefully. He knew Bloom’s life could depend on his reply; his own too if he chose the wrong option. In the end, despite the possible consequences for Bloom, he went for the truth. “Unlikely. He has a reputation for being as straight as an arrow. Besides it wouldn't work with Bean on the case now. I would need a very good reason to pull Bloom off and there's no guarantee that Bean's boss would do the same.” 

Adams shrugged matter of factly. “Looks like it will have to be a more permanent solution then.” 

George thought quickly. He wasn’t keen on Bloom and it would be tempting to let Adams get rid of the pain in the arse. Since Bloom had joined the team, George had felt the need to look over his shoulder more than once. Though, he rationalised, if Bloom had proof he was on the take he would have done something about it already. It wasn't out of any care for Bloom's life that he made one last attempt to head off Adams. A dead copper, particularly one who had risen up through the ranks quickly and was therefore well known to the top brass, would lead to a whole pile of shit raining down on him. “The last thing you need at the moment is to draw more attention to your family. You’ve got enough problems with your fight with the Coopers.” 

“It would look like an accident.” 

“I know that but having him dead is going to cause more heat than you need. If I try to stall the investigation can you hurry your shipment?” 

Adams looked thoughtful. "I'll think about it. But if you can’t stall him I'm warning you I'm going to take care of the problem permanently.” 

“Okay, I'll try. But can I also suggest that you get someone to do some digging. See if you can find anything else about Bloom, any other skeletons he might have in his closet? That way you might find some stronger ammunition to persuade him to back off.” 

“I’ll get Slick Eddy to watch him, give me his details.” 

Carter handed over a slip of paper with a few lines of writing on it. 

“You came prepared,” Adams said admiringly. 

Carter shrugged. “It’s what you pay me for.” 

He climbed out of the car and, probably because he was missing the warmth of its interior, George Carter shivered and suddenly felt very much colder.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A threat from the past and a hit and run accident, new information suggests that they might be related.

Sean looked out at the rain as it splashed against the office windows. Great, even the bloody weather was against them. Moving offices today was going get them, and all the files, soaked. If it had been anyone else but Lando who he was setting up a task force with, Sean would probably have tried to postpone, but the possibility of being close to Lan during the day was very appealing and not something he wanted to delay.

Seeing Dave walking into the squad room Sean muttered, hoping he sounded suitably put out, “With this bloody weather, why couldn’t the Drugs boys move over here? That’s what I want to know.” 

He already knew the answer to his question. Trying to get anywhere in the Isle of Dogs was a nightmare so it had made sense for Lan and his team to set up closer to Houlton’s. West India Docks had been closed for the last couple of years and were due to be redeveloped as soon as the government got their act and the money together. They were therefore working out of an old warehouse which was due to be demolished in the next couple of months when construction began on a new light railway link to Stratford.

Dave shrugged gloomily, “Your guess is as good as mine, guv, but I expect that as they have been working on this for a lot longer they’ll have more paperwork than us.” 

“Bloody hell, Dave, I didn’t really mean for you to come up with an answer. That was one of those rhetorical questions.” 

Fortunately, before Dave could think of a suitably insulting response the phone rang. Sean picked it up snapping into the mouthpiece, “Bean.” 

A familiar voice on the other end said, “Hey.” 

Sean looked around, waiting until that Dave had moved over to the kettle and out of earshot before answering. “Hey, yourself. How’s it going?” 

Lan snorted into the phone, “Well aside from George Carter being a complete pain in the arse and making us go over everything time and time again, we're doing okay. I think he's scared we've missed something that one of you will spot at once and make us look like complete tossers. Apart from that, we're trying to make some room for you as not many of these offices are still habitable and there’s a shortage of desk with all four legs. So how many guys are you planning to bring over?” 

“No more than half a dozen, probably less. Jack’d have my guts if I took all his men away.” 

“That's good. It would be a bit of a squeeze with any more. You still planning on getting here this afternoon?” 

“Yeah, it will probably be about three.” 

Sean could hear the excitement in Lan's voice when he said, “Good, because it looks like Adams has changed his plans. Chas rang me just now; he said the next delivery is being brought forward.” 

“That’s good news. Adams is going to have set this up in a hurry, so he might make a mistake. This will to be our best chance to nick him.” Sean prayed he wasn’t jinxing anything by saying that. 

“I thought so too,” Lan agreed. “If it all goes according to plan we might not be working together for very long then.” 

“Yeah, looks like it.” Sean looked around the room and no one was still close enough to overhear. “So, where do you keep your stationery?” 

“Stationery? What the bloody hell are you on about? What does that have to do with anything?” 

Sean imagined the puzzled look on Lan’s face. “I mean pens and paper and stuff like that. I need somewhere to put my equipment.” He winced at the cheesiness of that last comment. 

Hearing a faint gasp at the other end of the line, Sean knew that Lan had finally remembered their earlier joking about stationery cupboards. 

His voice was lower and even sexier, if Sean was any judge, when he replied, “Oh yeah, I’ve got room for anything you want to bring with you. You know I'll always find room for your personal items.” 

“I might well take you up on that later.” Sean knew that he shouldn’t take risks like this but sometimes the urge to behave like a person in a normal relationship was too strong. He and Lan were well aware that if they were outed they’d both be out of their jobs faster than they could say fucked but sometimes acting naturally, and saying what you felt, was worth the risk. “See you around three then.” 

“I’ll look forward to it.” Lan purred down the phone line. 

Sean put the phone down with a grin. His boyfriend was sex on legs, there was no getting away from it. He was a very lucky man and it was a shame that no one else could appreciate his good fortune. 

Realising that he was in a better mood for once, Sean yelled over at Dave, “Can you get me a coffee, mate?” 

He’d have to be patient but the thought of being near Lan again was giving him a serious hard on. Maybe he could volunteer to put away the stationery when they got to their temporary accommodation this afternoon - as long as Lan would help him - of course. With a smirk and his coffee in hand, Sean pulled a file towards him and began reading the latest information about Tony Adams and his family.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Sean threw the wrapper from his canteen sandwich in the bin and rubbed his stomach. Why the fuck didn’t he suggest that he and Lan meet up earlier and have lunch at the pub? Anything would have been safer than the sandwich he had just eaten. They could have claimed to be discussing the move details and integrating the teams. He looked at his watch again. Impatience had made him check it roughly every fifteen minutes since the call from Lan that morning. Part of him hoped that the task force they were setting up would nail the Adams' quickly, before they could do more damage to innocent parties but the other part wanted the opportunity to work with Lan to last a good long while.

Okay, it was just after two; he could leave now and not look too eager. Before he had managed to get out of the chair his phone rang. 

“Bean!” 

He knew he sounded annoyed but whoever the bugger was, at the other end, would just have to deal with it. 

There was a long wait until a female voice said uncertainly, “Sean?” 

“Yeah, who’s this?” 

“It’s Sonia.” 

Sean’s stomach plunged into his feet. Lan’s mother was calling him; that had to mean something was seriously wrong. 

“What’s the matter, love?” 

Sean heard a gulp and then, “I’ve just had a phone call from someone at the Yard, I’m sorry I was too shaken to ask their name. They said that there had been an accident and that Orli was in hospital. Something about a hit and run.” 

Feeling suddenly light-headed, Sean shook himself. He had to focus and make whatever decisions were necessary. Lan and Sonia were depending on him. 

Almost on autopilot he asked, “Did they tell you which hospital?” 

“Yes, The Royal London in Whitechapel.” 

He thought frantically. “Okay, wait there, I’ll get someone in a car over to you right away and they can bring you to the hospital. You shouldn't be driving. I’ll meet you there.” 

“Sean?” He heard her voice crack, “What if he’s badly hurt?” 

“Look, love, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. You know as well as I do what a stubborn bugger he is. There’s probably more damage to the car that hit him. Now you wait and I’ll sort everything.” 

Sean heard her stifle a sob. “Okay.” 

“Sorry, Sonia, I have to go now. I need to make some calls but I’ll meet you at the hospital. Remember, he’ll be fine.” As Sean hung up he muttered to himself, “He has to be.” 

The phone had barely been down for a second before it rang again. Steaming, Sean prepared to give the person on the other end a piece of his mind but before he could say anything another familiar voice said, “Is that you, Bean?” 

“It’s my bloody phone, who else do you expect to be answering it, you wanker.” 

DI Halliwell ignored the snark and said, “Listen, you bastard. Despite what you think about me, I’ve just got some news and I thought you ought to know about it.” 

“I don’t have time for this, I’ve just had a call from Lando's mother to say that he’s been involved in a hit and run accident. I need to get over to the London right away.” 

There was dead silence at the other end then, “Fuck it! I rang as soon as I got the information. Shit! The bastard is dead and still he’s hurting people.” 

Completely bemused, Sean wasn’t quite sure how to break up the flow of invectives. “Listen, H, I’m going to hang up now ‘cos I need to get going.” 

“Okay, Bean, I appreciate you're in a hurry, but wait up, just for thirty seconds. I’ve got information you need to hear. Brian O’Donnell had family in the States, a brother and a couple of cousins or some such. It appears that one of the cousins called Patrick, has decided he wants revenge. He or someone he paid off has already caught up with O'Donnell's ex, Rita, in Chicago, and strangled her. My informant says that they’re now coming after you and Bloom.” 

For a second or two Sean was transported back two years and to Brian O’Donnell’s warehouse. The image of Lan lying bloody and still on the cold concrete floor embedded in his mind. He pulled himself together. How could they have got to Lan already, surely he would have been the easier target as he hadn't changed jobs or offices? 

Abruptly, Sean remembered he was still holding the phone. Realising he owed Halliwell he apologised. “Sorry for sounding like a tosser, H. Thanks for the info. I’ll phone you when I see for myself that Lan is okay.” 

“You do that, Sean.” 

The phone went dead and Sean dropped the handset back into its cradle. 

“Dave! Organise a car at Lan’s mum’s house right away. He's been in an accident and she needs to get to the London. I’m going to meet her there. When you’ve done that, get on the phone to the local plods and find out all you can about the hit and run Lan was involved in. I want the car and the buggers responsible found.” 

Dave started moving immediately, picking up the phone on his desk and punching numbers. “Right, guv.” 

Sean stormed out of the office yelling for Harry as he went. Just before the door to the squad room closed behind him; he was sure he heard his phone ringing again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The events with Brian O'Donnell mentioned here take place in [ Futile Obsession ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3215369) which is also part of the Secrets and Consequences series


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sean races to the hospital to find out what has happened to Orlando.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for being a day late in posting, I'm on holiday at the moment so had to find some internet to post this chapter!

Leaving Harry outside to deal with the car, Sean headed for the Accident and Emergency department at a run. He hit the hinged entrance door with such force that it swung open, hit the doorstop which prevented it from smashing against the wall and came back at him with equal force. He blocked it with his foot, using the action to rid himself of some of the tension that had built up on the ride over. Without breaking stride he entered the building. 

His worry about Lan hadn't been helped by some sort of problem with the Met’s radio network which meant he'd not been able to contact the hospital to get any sort of update on his lover's condition during his journey to the hospital.

Ignoring everyone in his path, he strode over to the reception desk and showed his warrant card to the woman sitting there; her name badge read Christine. “I'm DI Bean; a friend of mine was brought in a little while ago. He’s a copper too.”

She barely paid any attention to the warrant card but instead looked at a huge ledger full of scrawled notes in lots of different colours of Biro, and asked, “Name?”

Sean snapped, “Bean; I just said so.”

She smiled at him, a placating smile that just got Sean’s back up further. “No, the patient’s name.”

“Oh, it's Bloom. Orlando Bloom.”

She looked at her list again and frowned. “I can’t find that name on my list. Are you sure he was brought here?”

“Of course I’m sure! There was a phone call.” Sean resisted the urge to rip the book out of her hands and look for Lan's name himself.

Suddenly she pointed to her list with a look of triumph which quickly faded. “Here he is. But-”

Sean felt his heart plummet. “But what?”

She pointed again at the book, jabbing her finger at the paper in emphasis. “Look. His name was here and now it’s been crossed out.”

“Crossed out!” Sean almost shouted, barely managing to lower his voice. “What the hell does that mean?” came out as a harsh whisper. 

Christine looked increasingly nervous as she answered, “Well, it means…”

Sean resisted the temptation to throttle her. “Yes?”

“It means that he isn’t receiving treatment any longer.”

“What?” Without making a conscious decision Sean opted for a positive outcome. “Does that mean he’s been discharged then?”

“Um no… If he’d been discharged it would say that, his name wouldn’t have just been crossed out.”

Realisation of what she didn’t want to say hit Sean and his legs suddenly wouldn’t support him. He had to lean on the counter to keep himself upright.

Noticing his obvious shock Christine offered, “Go and sit down and I’ll find out more and get someone to come and talk to you.”

Before he had turned away from the desk a familiar voice broke through his distress. “Sean, have you found Orli? Where is he? How is he?”

Fuck! How was he going to break the news to Sonia? He turned to face Lan's mother, his mouth dry.

She must have guessed something serious had happened because she seemed to shrink back into herself, her face suddenly looking very old. She shook her head in denial.

Suddenly, behind Sonia, Sean saw a familiar lanky figure and his first thought was that he had gone mad and was seeing a ghost. The part of his mind that was still capable of coherent thought decided that it was down to his long association with Lan that he even considered such a possibility.

Suddenly the apparition spoke. “Mum, Sean, what are you doing here?” 

Realising, when Sonia spun around, that she too could hear the voice, Sean began to suspect he wasn't seeing things.

He moved towards him but Sonia was faster, dragging Lan into a desperate hug.

“Thank goodness you’re all right. I was so worried when I got the phone call,” she babbled.

“Phone call? What phone call?”

“The one telling me you'd had an accident.” Sonia almost sobbed the words.

“Shit! I’m sorry you were worried, but I’m fine. It was Rob, my DS, who was hit by the car. The hospital must have thought it was me at first because he borrowed my coat when he went out to get some lunch and I’d left my warrant card in the pocket.”

“So that’s why your name was crossed out on the list.” 

What he was feeling must be relief; that was the only reason Sean could imagine for the insane urge he felt to punch Lan and at the same time hug him so hard he wouldn't be able to breathe. He needed to let Lan know how devastating the thought he had lost him had been. 

“Yeah, I sorted out the mistake as soon as I got here. It was really weird to get a phone call telling me that I’d had an accident.”

Sonia kept gripping Lan’s hand, understandably reluctant to let go. “I’m just glad…” Tears started rolling down her cheeks.

Sean turned to Christine and said, “Do you have somewhere a little more private we could use for a few minutes?”

“Yes, of course, there's a family room just down that corridor. I’m sure you can use that.”

Letting Lan bring up the rear with his mother, Sean started off in the direction Christine had pointed and very soon found an open door with a handwritten sign. The room was pretty much as he had expected; drab walls with half a dozen odd chairs--a mixture of straight-backed and lower, cushioned ones. 

He turned to Sonia. “You want me to see if I can get you a cuppa, love?”

She wiped away the tears on her cheeks with a tissue and smiled at Sean. “No, it’s fine. I saw a machine outside on my way in; I’ll get myself one and give you and Lan a minute. Do either of you want anything?” 

Sean blessed her for her sensitivity when she walked quickly out of the room and pulled the door closed behind her.

In a second Lan was wrapped around him, his breath harsh in Sean’s ear. 

“I’m sorry, Sean. I tried to contact mum as soon as I got here and discovered the mistake in case they phoned her. I thought she was out shopping or something. I should’ve realised that she’d phone you.”

“Yer daft bugger. Just don’t do anything like it again.” Sean had to swallow against the sudden lump in his throat. “I thought I’d lost you two years ago in that warehouse. Believe me, it was much worse this time.”

“I’m sorry.”

Sean let his lips brush against Lan’s cheek; the only contact they could allow until they got home. “Don’t be. It isn’t your fault I can’t get myself listed as your next of kin and they called your mum. It's one of the shitty drawbacks of living like this.”

All too soon, Sonia came back into the room and Lan moved away. As accepting of their relationship as Sonia was, habit prevented them from being overly demonstrative in front of her. 

Sean turned to Lan and said, “Sorry, I should have asked before, Rob, your DS, how is he?”

Lan shrugged. “I don’t know. They were taking him into surgery, which was why I came down here. I need to contact his parents.” He turned to his mum. “I’m fine, so you don’t need to stay here. Shall I organise you a lift home?”

Sean interrupted, “There’s no need. I’ll can take her home. I suspect moving office is cancelled for the duration so there's nowhere I need to be right now.”

Lan smiled. “Thanks, Sean, that'll be a real weight off my mind. Tell you what, as soon as I find out how Rob is, I’ll give you a call. Once I know he's going to be okay I'll go into the office to talk to the locals and find out what information they have. I might be a bit late but I’ll meet you at home later.”

Sean nodded. “Yeah.” It was only then he remembered the phone call from Halliwell and knowing that saying anything in front of Sonia would only worry her – the last thing she needed right now – he said meaningfully, “There’re some things we need to talk about later. But just be careful in the meantime, ‘cos I don’t need to be called back here again.” 

“Okay, I promise to be careful.” Nodding his understanding of Sean’s unspoken message, Lan kissed his mum’s cheek and pushed her towards Sean. “Go on, let Sean take you home and I bet if you ask him nicely he’ll get Harry to drive along with the siren and flashing blue lights.”

Sean started to protest but Sonia interrupted him to answer, “No thank you! That happened on the way here and I don’t think my heart rate is back to normal yet. I’d like a nice quiet drive. I think I’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Don stopped outside the house. “You going to be okay, guv?”

“Yeah, thanks, mate.”

“Shall I pick you up a bit later in the morning?”

Lan shook his head. “No, make it the usual time. It's going to be manic tomorrow.”

“Righto. I'll be here at eight sharp.”

Before he got out of the car, Lan paused for a moment, resting his hand on Don's shoulder. “Thanks for everything, Don.”

“No problem, guv. See you in the morning.”

Once Don had driven away, Lan stood looking at their front door, unable to walk along the path for a moment. He’d spoken to Sean twice, once, before he left the hospital and next, from a phone box right after he’d left Rob’s parents’ house. 

His mind kept going over the events of the past few hours. 

As soon as Sean and Sonia had left the hospital Lan had phoned the office and got a number for Rob's parents. However, before he could make the call, Christine had hurried over asking him to return to the theatre floor as soon as possible as the surgeon wanted to speak to him. With a feeling of dread, he'd made his way back upstairs only to be told that the true extent of Rob's injuries had only come to light during the surgery and he'd died on the operating table.

As Rob's superior, he'd been the one to tell Rob's parents that their son hadn't made it through surgery. It was something he always hated doing. He’d been the bearer of bad news before; one of his first tasks when he was in uniform had been to tell a woman that her husband had been in a fatal car accident. But Rob’s parents’ quiet dignity despite their grief had affected him more than them raging at him would. He didn’t even want to imagine how difficult it would have been if Sean had been given the task of passing on similar information to his mum. Or if anything had happened to Sean, how would he have been told about that? Would it be a case of waiting for him to come home one evening and when he didn't appear, calling the squad room only to discover something had happened to him? Or would he have to wait to find out by reading the newspapers? As much as he loved his job, he wondered if choosing to keep his sexuality hidden was worth the price.

The risks of the job were something all coppers got used to. If you were trying to break up an armed robbery or on a drugs bust you expected violence but you planned the job and were tooled up yourself if you knew guns were going to be involved. Being run over while you were out getting lunch made no sense whatsoever. 

Still feeling numb he headed towards the front door. He knew Sean was home because he could see light around the edge of the living room curtains. Fishing his key out of his trouser pocket, he let himself in. 

“Hey, Sean, I’m back.”

Sean must have started moving when he heard Lan unlocking the door as he appeared almost immediately. “Hey. How’re you doing? Can I get you a cuppa or do you want something stronger?”

Looking at the coat hooks in the hallway, Lan was again reminded that his jacket was gone for good; apparently the hospital had needed to cut it away to begin treating Rob.

“Something stronger I think.”

“Anything to eat?”

“Not just yet, maybe later.” Right now, the thought of food made him feel nauseous.

He sat down on the sofa as Sean walked over to the cabinet and took out two glasses and a bottle of scotch. Putting the glasses down on the coffee table, Sean sat next to him and poured two generous measures. Lan knocked the first one back so quickly he could barely taste it. Sean topped his glass up immediately.

They sat drinking in silence for a while and then Sean said, “I’m sorry about your skipper.”

Lan studied the bottom of his glass. “It’s bloody tragic, you go out for lunch and bang, it’s all over.”

Sean refilled his glass again and then, looking a bit uneasy, said, “Um, not sure if this is right time but then I don’t think there is a right time to mention it. I’m not so sure what happened to Rob was an accident.” Lan half stood in surprise and then his knees gave way and he slumped back down on the sofa.

“I got a phone call today from Halliwell, just before I left to come to the hospital this afternoon.”

“Halliwell? What did he want?”

“He told me that some American cousin or other of Brian O’Donnell is out for revenge. Apparently he’s already got to Rita. So it doesn’t look like today was an accident.”

“What? A contract on us? They can’t be serious. That all happened more than two years ago. Did you ask around, see if anyone else has heard anything?”

“I didn't have much time but I gave Ray Doyle a quick ring to see if he could find out any more. I thought CI5 might have different contacts. Once I'd reassured him you were okay, he promised he'd ask around.” Sean stood and began pacing. “He did ask if I thought the hit and run might be something to do with your Halloween problem.”

“I don't think so. I know I'm half pissed but I'm positive the accident wasn't anything to do with our ghostly friend from last year.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Nothing definite. Just a feeling that because cars weren't around in his time he wouldn't know how to use one to kill me. If we accept Rob's death was deliberate, it was either something to do with him, maybe a case from his past or he was mistaken for me, maybe by O'Donnell's cousin, but it could equally have something to do with any number of people I might have pissed off in the past.” Lan stood, pushing one hand back through his hair. He desperately needed a shower. “I'll have to start making enquiries in the morning.”

Sean put a hand on his arm. “Lan, there’s bound to be an investigation and once we pass on the information about O’Donnell, the Murder Squad will be called in and they won’t want us involved.”

“Yeah, I know. I expect I’ll have to talk to them tomorrow. But the way I figure it is if we don’t tell them what we’re doing; they don’t need to know. We can tell them when we find anything.”

Sean put his arms around him and Lan let himself be comforted. God, he was tired and pissed. Sean hadn’t been stingy with the scotch since he’d got home. Between them they must have been through half a bottle.

“Listen to me, Lan, you’ve got other cases, you have to let someone else concentrate on the investigation.”

He felt incredulous. Did Sean really intend him to sit on his hands and do nothing? 

He pulled away and stared at Sean. “How can you say that? He was my friend as well as my DS. I can’t just sit around and wait for someone else to solve his murder.”

When Sean reached out to him again, anger made Lan push him away.

Putting his hands out in front of him pleadingly, Sean said, “Listen to me, Lan, you’re already working a major case and you won’t have the time to do your best for Rob. Let someone else handle it.”

Sean began pacing and the continual motion was making Lan feel a little queasy. 

“I can see that I have to let them take the main role in this, I’ll just keep an eye on things and make sure they are following up all the leads.”

Getting right up close to him, Sean almost shouted. “No. Trying to do too much will mean you’ll take risks and endanger yourself.”

“So what the fuck do you suggest I do then?” Lan snapped back, standing toe to toe with Sean.

Making a visible effort to calm down, Sean said, “Like I said, let the Murder Squad handle it. Please.”

Feeling the fight drain out of him, Lan nodded. “You’re right. If I try to find out what happened to Rob, then I’ll risk letting the Adams off the hook.”

Smiling, Sean said, “That’s true. But honestly I’m more worried that you’ll be too distracted to look out for trouble. Not that it’s going to, but if it ever came to a choice, I want you to put yourself first. Tony Adams can go fuck himself if it means you put yourself in danger.”

With a sigh that he knew sounded a lot like a sob, Lan let himself be pulled back into Sean’s arms. Standing in his lover’s strong embrace Lan let himself relax, soaking up the love he knew they shared. “Love you, Sean.”

“I love you too, Lan, now why don't you go and have a shower? It’ll make you feel better.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lan and Sean talk over what happened and decide what to do next.

Half an hour later, Lan turned off the shower, climbed out and quickly towelled himself dry. Not bothering to dress again, he wrapped a dry towel around his waist. Whether it was relief that he was still alive, sorrow for Rob's death or just the drink talking, he felt decidedly horny. He couldn't do anything to help Rob now except make sure his killer was found, but he could do something about the other. So, turning off the bathroom light, he went to find his lover.

Sean was in the kitchen, washing up their scotch glasses so he went and stood behind him, snaking an arm around his waist. Then he made sure to let his hand drop a bit lower so that he could give Sean's cock a soft squeeze through his clothes. 

“Feeling better I take it?” Sean rested his hand over the top of Lan’s, pushing slightly against the hand cupping his rapidly filling cock.

“Yeah, a bit.” Lan nuzzled his neck and spoke against his ear, “Horny too.”

“I would never have guessed.” He could hear amusement in Sean’s voice.

Turning in his embrace, Sean leaned back against the sink and Lan moved closer, standing between Sean's outstretched legs.

Putting a damp hand on his shoulder, Sean let it drift slowly downwards, stroking lightly over a nipple already hard from the chill air in the kitchen. His hand ghosted over the scar on Lan's abdomen where Brian O'Donnell had used a knife to peel the skin away. “Sometimes I forget just how lucky I am, you know. Then I see this and it reminds me.” He stroked the scar again.

Lan pulled Sean’s shirt out of his trousers and began working on the buttons. Right now he wanted Sean to fuck him so hard he would forget his own name. “Tell you what, let’s accept that we’re both lucky and then you can concentrate on fucking me through the mattress.”

“That what you want?”

“Oh yeah.” Lan nodded. 

Running his fingers along the line where the towel met Lan's skin Sean said, “Sounds good to me too.”

Having finished with the buttons on Sean’s shirt, Lan let Sean pull him closer. The sensation of their bare skin touching did nothing to stem the tide of his desire. Sean kissed him, a gentle touching of lips with a tentative exploration by his tongue, but that wasn't what Lan wanted, what he yearned for. He needed Sean to take him hard and fast. He wanted to feel it for days so that he would carry the reminder that he was still alive and capable of feelings.

Using his actions to show what he wanted, Lan curled his fingers through the hair on either side of Sean's head, holding him still so that he could control the kiss. Forcing his tongue between Sean's lips, Lan tried to massage Sean's tonsils, fucking his mouth with his tongue until Sean was gasping for breath.

When they finally had to break apart or risk suffocation, Lan slid one hand between their bodies and started to work on Sean's belt. He had it undone in no time but when he reached for the zip on Sean's trousers, a hand caught his, holding it still.

“If you don't want to slow down, let's go upstairs. I know you need it like this, but you did mention a mattress. I don't think your back or my knees could take me fucking you on the kitchen table right now.”

Taking Lan's hand, Sean pulled him towards the kitchen door.

As soon as they reached the bedroom Sean turned, stretching out his hand and pulling the towel from around his waist revealing his cock standing at full attention.

Sean ran a finger from the tip to the base of his cock, and then down to his balls, rolling them in his hand a little. “You weren’t kidding about being horny, were you?” 

“You know I’d never lie to you about that, love.” Lan moved closer until their bodies were touching once more and swallowing around a groan said, “Enough talking. Do it now. Fuck me. Prove I’m still alive.”

Sean nodded as Lan’s lips moved roughly over his jaw and down to his neck, nipping and sucking. “Aye. I can do that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sean stopped, savouring the sensation of being buried to the hilt inside his lover's body. The bedside lamp was bright enough for him to see Lan’s back sloping away, his skin looking like silk in the reflected light. With a groan of pleasure, Lan rested his forehead on a pillow, pushing back to get Sean as deep inside him as possible. The change of angle caused Lan's channel to clench around his cock and Sean rested his forehead against Lan's shoulder, sucking desperately at the skin on one shoulder blade to try to regain control. Even though Lan wanted hard and fast, Sean didn't want it to be over too soon.

“Fuck it, Sean, why have you stopped?” 

Sitting back and aiming a slap at Lan's hip, Sean muttered, “Patience. I'm in charge here. You'll get what I want to give you when I want to do it.” As good as his words, Sean remained motionless apart from the occasional slight push pull, even when beads of sweat began to trickle down the side of his face. He had to bite his lip to avoid moaning when Lan tensed his internal muscles to try to force him to continue. But Sean would have the last laugh, they'd been like this often enough for him to know that Lan would eventually give in and beg him to finish what he'd started.

Eventually the words were dragged out of the man beneath him. “Please, Sean. I need to come. Let me touch myself, please.”

Lan lurched unsteadily and Sean grabbed the hand he had moved to his cock. “No wait, you're going to come from just my cock inside you.”

Lan clutched the pillow harder. “Oh God, then hurry. Hurry! Just a little more! I’m so close!”

Sitting back on his heels, Sean pulled Lan with him and Lan brought the pillow as well, too desperate to realise he was still holding it.

Forcibly removing the pillow from Lan's grasp, Sean gripped Lan’s hips tighter with his sweat damp hands and started moving again. Of necessity his strokes were short but he tried to make each one as strong as possible. The moans coming from his partner when he reached the deepest point of penetration told Sean that he was positioned just right and hitting Lan's prostate every time. 

As soon as Lan started babbling, the words strung together but making no sense Sean knew he was close. Holding Lan tight against his chest with one hand, Sean wrapped the other around his cock and with two quick tugs on the engorged organ Lan was coming, howling with pleasure. The channel clenching around his cock and the knowledge that he was able to give Lan such ecstasy was enough to send Sean over too. Even so he tried to keep moving slowly, hoping to prolong Lan's orgasm.

Finally spent, but retaining enough sense to roll them both over onto their sides, Sean lay spooned against Lan's back.

After a couple of moments, growing concerned at the lack of any sound from his lover, Sean shook him gently. “Hey, you okay?”

“Mmmm,” was the highly articulate reply.

Sean started to pull out but a hand on his hip stopped him. 

“No stay. Just for a little while,” Lan murmured.

“Okay.” Over the past two years Sean had developed a fondness for post-coital snuggling and with Lan's full approval they indulged whenever they could. Eventually though, Sean felt himself slip from Lan’s body and he kissed his shoulder before rolling out of bed to find a wash cloth.

Once cleaned up, Lan curled himself around Sean resting his head on Sean’s chest. 

“Thanks.” His voice was quiet and Sean had to struggle to hear.

“What for?”

Lan sighed, “For being here when I need you, and for understanding.”

“I can’t pretend to fully understand what you’re feeling, love, but back when I was in the West Midlands squad we lost one of the DC's; a young lad called Andy. It wasn’t in an accident like Rob; he was killed by a blagger in a raid. The bastard let him have both barrels of a sawn off in the chest; the kid never stood a chance. I remember seeing his parents at the funeral and wondering how they could stand there so calm and collected. I couldn’t have been much more than twenty-six myself then and like we all did, I thought I’d live forever. It made me realise how impermanent everything is.” Sean laughed softly. “That’s another reason I can’t believe I was such a wanker about telling you how I felt about you before.”

Lan’s muffled voice came from below Sean’s chin, “Yeah, when something like this happens it makes you realise what’s important.”

They lay there for a few more minutes before Lan said, “So what do we do now?”

“I called our guv'nors and let them know about the new developments. I had thought about trying to persuade them to carry on the deception that you were the one involved in the hit and run. That way you can move around without looking over your shoulder for O’Donnell, and continue the investigation unhindered.”

“Yeah, but that means he’ll be concentrating on you. You’ll be a sitting duck!” Lan tried to sit up but Sean held him against his chest until he settled again.

“Not with you and half the bloody squad covering my back,” he said soothingly.

Lan took a deep breath. “I still don’t like it, Sean.”

“I’m not too keen myself. But, Lan, we need to catch him and at the same time keep on with the investigation because I am not letting a scroat like Adams walk away from this.”

Lan was silent as though deep in thought for a moment before saying, “Tell you what, we can call Ray first thing and see if his informant has come up with anything, then we’ll meet with Jack and George and see what they think about me staying dead. We'll have to let my mum know in advance if they decide to make a formal announcement with my name. She'd have to tell other members of the family so that they didn't panic, so I'm not sure how secure the information would be.”

Sean settled back against the pillow, continuing to stroke the skin of Lan’s shoulder and upper back. “I was thinking about your mum and wondered if it might be better for her to go somewhere for a while anyway, just to be on the safe side.”

Sean felt Lan stiffen in his arms and begin to pull away as a preliminary to sitting up. “You think O’Donnell might go for my mum?”

Sean held him still and shook his head. “No I don’t. It’s not easy to find out where she lives unless they have someone inside the force. Give her a ring tomorrow morning and suggest that she goes to stay with Sam for a week or so.” Sean suddenly remembered the wedding invitation from Lan’s sister that was sitting on the mantelpiece downstairs. “Suggest she helps with preparations for the wedding or something.”

“Okay, it's late now; I’ll talk to her in the morning.” Lan ran his hand along the side of Sean’s abdomen and Sean knew what he was going to say before Lan spoke, “Sam's still waiting for our reply to her invitation you know.”

“Yeah I do. I’m just not sure if being there together will be misinterpreted.”

Abruptly, despite Sean trying to hold onto him, Lan pulled out of his arms and rolled over, flopping on to his back and staring at the ceiling. Sean would have needed to be as insensitive as a block of cement to miss the sudden tension that had invaded their bed.

“What the fuck is there to misinterpret? We’re lovers and my sister has invited you to her wedding as my partner.” 

Sean felt the first stirring of anger. Jesus he couldn't deal with this now. Not this argument again! 

“I know that! But it would be the same as pinning an announcement on the notice board at the office. We could kiss goodbye to everything we’ve worked for in the force.”

Lan sounded resigned when he said, “I know that, Sean, but I am so tired of hiding who I really am and how I feel about you.”

“You think I don't feel the same?”

Lan didn't even turn his head and his voice was soft and almost sad. “You tell me you love me and I believe that but sometimes, when your actions don't fit your words, I don't know what you feel.”

Hearing the quiet defeat in his voice made Sean's chest hurt and he turned, pulling Lan into his arms once more. “I love you. Never forget that. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But, Lan, if we had to leave the force you'd be fine, you'd find another job easily. I'm ten years older than you. I don't know anything except being a copper. What else could I do?”

“Oh, Sean, you're so wrong. There are lots of things we could do outside the force and maybe events are telling us that it might be time to start looking at alternatives. I'm sorry for behaving like a spoilt brat. Deep down I know you love me and that you've taken a huge risk for us to be together. But I've taken that risk too, because I think you're worth it.”

Sean pressed a kiss to the top of Lan's head and trying to make things right he said, “Tell you what, as soon as this case is over, we’ll look into the possibilities if we leave the force; see what sort of trouble two retired coppers could get into.”

“As long as we don’t end up running a pub,” Lan yawned.

“Hey, I like the sound of that. All the beer I could ever want on tap,” Sean said wistfully.

“Too many ex-coppers have tried that and ended up alcoholics, we don’t want that,” Lan said.

Sean sighed. “Maybe not.” He hugged Lan harder. “Go to sleep and I promise we’ll talk more in the morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> blagger = bank robber


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adams reveals what he knows about Sean and Lan's relationship and plans are made for a police raid

George Carter stopped outside a shadowy doorway in a small alley just off the bustle of Leather Lane street market. It was just after one o’clock and the market was busy with local office workers doing their shopping or getting their lunchtime snacks. After one more careful look around to make sure he hadn’t been followed, he knocked on the door. He waited impatiently, absolutely certain that Adams was leaving him waiting outside deliberately. Adams knew that having a smart arse like Bloom on his team was risky for George but it would be exactly like that scroat to try to play them off against each other, just for the fun of it. He knocked again, vowing that he wouldn't wait any longer than another thirty seconds for the door to be opened. It felt like he had a target drawn on the back of his jacket and it would only take the sharp eyes of a beat copper to recognise him and the game would be up. 

Finally, just as he was about to walk away, George heard the sound of bolts being drawn back and eventually the door opened, revealing Billy Adams, the baby of the family. 

“Hello Mr Carter, Tony told me we was expecting you.” 

George pushed in through the doorway. Fortunately, Billy had had the good sense to move to one side to avoid being bowled over. “Good. Is he upstairs in the office?” 

“Yeah, he said to go on up.” Billy spoke to his back. 

George climbed the flight of badly lit stairs and, reaching the top, halted briefly to give a perfunctory knock on the door there. Without waiting for a response, he opened the door and walked inside. He’d been here before and knew the layout of the overly ostentatious room, so he was able to focus on Tony Adams right away. As usual Adams was dressed conservatively, in a grey suit that probably cost more than George took home in a month's salary, a striped shirt with a white collar and a dark tie. 

“You wanted a meeting, George?” Adams lit a cigar and did not offer one to George. 

“Yes, Mr Adams. I received some news this morning that I thought you should hear. I was rather hoping we could have met at the usual time and place, but never mind, I'm here now.” 

“Then why mention it?” 

“No reason at all, Mr Adams.” George bit his tongue when he answered. He couldn't afford to alienate Adams. He was an evil bastard and would grass on him just for fun. 

“Good.” 

George knew that Adams was being deliberately abrupt to keep him on edge and so far it was working. George began nervously, “First, I’ve got the information you wanted. The name of Bloom’s informant at Houlton’s is Chas Wilkins; he works as the office boy, though he's far from being a boy.” 

“Wilkins? Don’t think I know him. I’ll get Harry to find him and have a word.” 

“And then yesterday someone tried to kill Bloom and make it look like a hit and run. They missed him, but killed his DS instead. Bean got information from another copper that there is a hit out on them because of a major case they were both working on two years ago, which ended with both of them getting hurt. Bean wanted us to play along with the fiction that Bloom was dead so that he became the sole target, but it was pointless in the end because by the time he made the suggestion, the brass upstairs had already released the dead man’s name to the press.” 

Adams nodded. “Bean's request isn’t so surprising, given what Eddy found out.” 

George wasn’t sure if Adams was talking to him or himself so he kept mum.

Adams tipped his chair back and propped his feet on the desk looking thoughtful, “My shipment is on route and will be here in two days. I can't cancel it at this stage. If I could supply a very good incentive do you think I could persuade Bean and Bloom to back off?” 

George's curiosity got the better of him. “What did you find? I've been trying to find something to keep Bloom in line since he joined my team.” 

“I told you at our last meeting that I was going to get Slick Eddy to do some digging? Well, he found out a lot about your two colleagues.” Adams smiled, and it reminded George of a shark he had once seen, swimming about in a huge tank in one of those aquarium places. 

Opening a drawer in his desk, Adams pulled out a brown envelope. He made to throw it across the desk to but then stopped. "Be very sure you want to know, George, because if you mention anything you see here to anyone else, I'll kill you. And that's not a threat. It's a promise." 

Adams waited until George nodded before throwing the envelope across the desk to him. 

Mystified and a little nervous, Carter opened the envelope and slid out three ten by eight photographs. All at once the reason for Adams' comments, especially the one about Bean wanting Bloom out of the line of fire, became clear. The photos were not prize-winning examples of the photographer’s art by any means being dark and grainy but the people in them were easy enough to identify. 

The picture at the top of the pile showed Bean and Bloom standing together in a kitchen, their arms around each other. Bloom was only wearing a towel, Bean’s shirt was opened and they were kissing. George flicked through the other pictures, taking in the main details. 

If asked then, George would have said, hand on heart, that he’d had his suspicions about Bloom for a while anyway. 

Adams tilted his head to one side. “Not going to say anything?” 

George thought for a minute, “I can honestly say that I would never have guessed that Bean was as bent as a nine bob note. He’s always seemed a real bloke’s bloke, if you know what I mean. As for Bloom, I always thought he looked too pretty not to be a fucking poofter.” 

“So you think the threat of making those public will be enough to keep them looking the wrong way?” 

“Honestly? No.” George shook his head. “Both of them are so straight they must have pokers up their arses.”

“Poor choice of words, George.” Adams smirked as he let his chair fall forward onto all four legs with a dull thud. He leaned forward over the desk towards George. “Do you think the threat of the hit or getting involved in the investigation to find Bloom's sergeant’s killer will be enough to keep them off my back?” 

Carter shook his head. “I’m not sure. Like a said before, a dead copper causes a lot of fuss, even if the official story being put about is that it was an accident. The investigation is going to include a lot of brass and I suspect they'll make sure Bloom keeps his nose out of it. As for the rest, it depends on whether the guy after them is a pro.” 

”You mentioned a case from two years ago, where they both got hurt.” Adams thought for a minute, “That would be the O’Donnell case?” 

Feeling disconcerted George said, “Yeah. If you don’t mind me asking Mr Adams, how did you know about O’Donnell?” 

“You don’t honestly think you're the only copper on my payroll do you, George?” The shark-like smile appeared again briefly. 

“Oh, of course.” George spluttered, anxious to move on. Hearing about private detectives poking into other people’s business unnerved him almost as much as knowing that there might be other coppers on Adams’ payroll; all it would take was a little digging and he would find himself out of a job and doing a stretch in The Scrubs. 

“Okay, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to make sure Wilkins tells Bloom a convincing story about the time and the place of the delivery and then Harry is going to pay him a visit. It will, of course, be the wrong information. They’ll plan a raid to catch us unloading which you will encourage. Of course, there will be nothing to find, as we will have off loaded the shipment into a smaller boat out beyond Tilbury.” 

“But you’ll still have them all over you like shit on a blanket, especially if they think they’ve had the wool pulled over their eyes. They might even suspect a leak.” George began to panic. 

“Ah, but that is where the second part of my plan comes in. I’m going to have someone waiting at the fake location with the sole purpose of taking out Bloom and Bean. That means I need to be kept up to date with the arrangements. The kicker will be that I’ll make sure it looks like Wilkins sold information to Patrick O’Donnell. Your people will move heaven and earth to find him and once they’ve got him they will make fucking sure he’s convicted. After all he'll have killed three coppers.” Adams looked at George. “So, all you need to do is make sure that the pair of them stay on the investigation and turn up to lead the raid. Simple but effective. Is that all right with you, George?” 

He thought Adams' suggestion through for a few minutes. “There will be an awful lot of flack. I'll have to make sure they don't dig too hard in case they get to me.” 

“I actually meant about me killing two of your people. You seemed a bit reluctant when I last brought up the subject.” 

“When it’s them or me, I’d rather be on the winning side.” 

Adams shook his head admiringly. “You put me to shame, George. I thought I was a ruthless bastard…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

**Two days later**  
Lando walked back into the office the combined team was sharing and waved at Sean. “You got a minute?”

Sean nodded and together they walked outside into the car park where they could talk without being overheard. “What’s wrong?” 

Lan bit his lip and studied Sean for a minute before answering, “I’m not sure. Something feels off.” 

There was concern in Sean's eyes when he answered. “I spoke to Ray this morning and he’s worried that he can’t find a trace of O’Donnell in the immigration records. He reckons he could have come in on a fake passport which will make tracking him down really difficult." Changing the subject Sean said, “So what happened with Chas this morning? Did something go wrong? You're usually happy with what he tells you.” 

“Yeah, I know, and this morning he told me that the delivery Adams is expecting tomorrow is the biggest ever because he’s looking to retire or at least ease back on his activities for a while. Chas told me the ship is due to dock at six in the morning. It has a legit cargo as well as the cocaine. He says he’s heard a rumour that Adams is going to be there to collect the stuff himself, along with a couple of his brothers. The normal crew will offload the genuine cargo of tractor parts at the same time.” 

“We should get a team ready to take them down. If we play our cards right, we could get the whole family dead to rights.” 

Sean still looked unsure so Lan tried to explain. “It’s just that the info was too easy to get. How come Chas, who up until a few days ago had no idea that Tony Adams was involved with Houlton’s, now knows that the delivery is going to be big enough to let him retire? He even mentioned Adams by name. This feels wrong, like a set up.” 

“I’ve always had a lot of respect for your hunches, for obvious reasons, so how do you want to play this? Do you want to meet with Jack and George and let them know about your reservations?” 

Lan was astounded by Sean’s unquestioning faith in him but he knew he shouldn’t be. Sean was familiar with Lan's particular 'gift' and while he may not totally understand how it worked, he respected it and what it could do. He thought rapidly, trying to understand why he was feeling so uncertain. “I'm not sure of the reason for me feeling like this; whether it is something to do with how I see things or if it is just plain old copper's instinct. My feeling is that we need to take the tip-off seriously, just in case Adams has simply got careless. But I also think we need to be alert for signs of a trap." 

“Okay. We can work with that. We’ll brief everyone and tell them everything we know.” 

Lan shook his head. “I don't want to sound difficult but I'd prefer to keep my suspicions just between us for now. There’s nothing concrete to go on - just a feeling - and I know how difficult it would be to explain that believably to anyone else.” 

Sean sighed. “So what do you want to do?” 

Lan could see the trust in Sean’s eyes and he thought frantically for a moment, aware that making the wrong decision could cost him dearly. “Let's give Ray a chance to do some more digging before the briefing this afternoon and if he can't find anything but I'm still unsure I'll say something to warn everyone.” 

Sean nodded, “Okay, if that's what you want, I’ll go along. For now.” Hoping they weren't being watched, Sean grabbed Lan's arm and gave him a shake. "But, I want you to be absolutely sure this is right before we start the raid. If it is a choice between letting Adams get hold of a shit load of drugs and losing you, he can have the drugs." 

Lan smiled. "It’s okay, Sean, if I've got any doubts at all, I'll pull the plug."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kept mum = kept quiet  
> bent as a nine bob note = old fashioned saying going back to the time when the ten shilling (bob) note was part of the currency in the UK. It means that something is not on the level or what it seems, but doesn't necessarily mean that the person is gay.  
> poofter = gay


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Planning for the raid and Lan still has a bad feeling...

**Later that afternoon**

Waiting with Lan just outside the door to the briefing room while the rest of the teams filed inside, Sean said, “Did you turn up anything that means we have to put this on hold?”

“No. Not a thing. I’ve still got a bad feeling –“ He interrupted himself, “Jesus I’m sounding like an old woman.”

“It’s okay, I’m used to that.” Sean said with a smile.

Lan punched his arm, “Wanker.”

“No need!” Sean threw over his shoulder as he made his way into the room, leaving Lan to follow on and close the door behind them.

Amid the clattering as the team were making themselves comfortable they could talk easily without being overheard. Even so Sean stood close by and lowered his voice. Given the accuracy of Lan’s hunches in the past it was something Sean had to take seriously. Getting Lan to give an accurate risk estimate and then trying to convince Jack that they needed to call the raid off was something he would only attempt if there were no other option.

In an attempt to gauge Lan’s level of concern Sean asked, "How bad is that bad feeling? Are we talking just needing to be a bit more careful or calling it off?"

Lan shrugged. "The first one; we should go ahead with the raid. If I'm wrong we could lose our chance to nick any of the Adams’ for ages."

“Nicking Adams is secondary to your safety, as far as I’m concerned.”

“Who’s sounding like an old woman now?” Lan teased.

“Be serious for a minute, Lan.”

With a sigh of resignation Lan said, “Can we talk about this later?”

Sean nodded. “Okay, but we are going to talk about it.”

“Fair enough.”

They’d agreed that Sean would lead the briefing, so when the noise dropped enough that he didn’t have to shout to be heard, Sean began talking. “To start with I’ve got descriptions of the Adams family in case any of you have been living in Timbuktu for the past three years.”

Of course a group of the men then started humming the Adams family theme, snapping their fingers at the right time. Sean let them continue for a couple of moments before banging his hand down on the desk in front of him. “No more sodding about, I want to get this done so I can go home and get some sleep before I have to be back here at the crack of dawn.” He let a note of impatience creep into his voice, warning the men that he wasn’t in the mood to take any crap. He needed to get home so that he and Lan could have a serious talk about the potential risks tomorrow.

He looked at the notes on the board behind him. “We’re pretty sure that we will only have to worry about three of the family. There are more of the bastards, but they generally don’t have a part in the criminal activities. They benefit from the expensive gifts and all expenses paid holidays abroad, but keep their collective noses clean. I would have included Tommy Adams – the third oldest – in the first group, but, as I hope you are all aware, he was murdered recently, along with his family."

Sean looked around to see if there were any questions or comments, but no-one offered anything. He pointed to the full face picture at the top left of the board. “The head of the family is Tony Adams; he’s thirty-five years old, married to Angie with two teenage kids, both attending private school. He has a big house in Highbury, North London, where he keeps his collection of antiques. He's masterminded the rise of the family from petty criminals through protection rackets in the local markets, to a big drug business, importing heroin and cocaine, allegedly earning hundreds of thousands each year. We are sure that he has lawyers and local councillors on his payroll, but haven’t been able to prove anything. We need to catch him red-handed to be absolutely sure to get a conviction or his brief will walk all over us.

“The next brother is Harry. At thirty-three he’s the second eldest, and because of his size and the TV programme you've shown me you are all familiar with, is nicknamed Lurch. He’s married to Ruth and they don’t have any kids. We think there are problems in that department, but because they are a good Catholic family, divorce is not an option. Harry spends most of his time playing away with a string of mistresses. Harry also lives in Highbury. He's a lifelong Arsenal fan, knows some of the players personally and drinks and parties with them. He has a cocaine habit that Tony doesn’t know about or he’d kick Harry’s arse. Harry’s the family enforcer and a mean, hard bastard. There are rumours that he went right off the rails when he was around fourteen and that he had hospital treatment, but we haven’t found confirmation of that. There is no doubt in my mind that Harry Adams is a sociopath and his drug habit will not have helped his mental state at all.

“The baby of the family is Billy, he’s nineteen. We’re pretty sure that his mum is not at all happy about him working for Tony. As far as we can tell he is enamoured of the world inhabited by his older brothers and they look after him. Billy is not stupid, even though he might appear to be, and he knows a lot about what's going on in the family business. So far, he does not have a criminal record as he's always been protected.”

Sean gestured at the diagram of a large cargo ship pinned to a notice board.

“Right now, listen carefully, and I’ll go over the details of the raid. The ship, the Minerva, is owned by Neptune Marine and registered in Piraeus but at the moment she is chartered by Houlton’s Marine Engineering. Most of the crew were hired in Tangier so I don’t think they are going to know much about what is going on and are unlikely to speak much English. The Minerva left Tangier four days ago and is due to dock at six am sharp. That means we’ll need to meet here at five on the dot to get tooled up just in case the buggers try anything. There is a rumour that Tony himself will be at the dock when the ship arrives, but personally I’m not putting much store in that information. He’s too bloody smart to link himself so obviously to the drugs, so I think he will have some men he can trust off load the dodgy cargo and have them take the risk of getting it where it needs to be.”

He pointed to the last remaining pictures on the board, “These are Tony Adams’ most trusted accomplices: the twins, John and Fred Armstrong, and Terry Donovan. If they are around on the dock we can be a hundred per cent sure Adams is involved.”

Sean turned and gestured to the gangways marked on the plan of the ship. “We’ll split into two teams, ten men in each. Lando will lead the team going in at the front of the ship and I’ll lead the one at the back.”

“Don’t you mean stern, guv?” a heckler from the back shouted.

“I’ll give you bloody stern if you don’t shut up, Jimmy,” Sean promised. 

“We need to get on board and start searching as soon as possible because, in the unlikely event that we don’t find anything, we can’t afford to hold up the unloading. On the other hand, if we find drugs on board we can impound the vessel and arrest the crew – who are all bound to be foreign nationals - and take our time with the search.

“DCI Carter will be nearby on observation and DCI Cartwright will be at the main control centre in the warehouse next door. On this occasion, DCI Cartwright is in overall charge and will keep in communication with the locals to make sure they don’t get their knickers in a twist over us working on their patch.

He looked at Lan. “You want to add anything?”

“Yeah.” Lan stood to face the group, “Remember that there will be a legit crew there, and as Sean pointed out, they are unlikely to speak very much English, so take it easy. We’ve shown you the most recent pictures of the Adams and their cronies because we don’t want any civilian casualties if anyone gets trigger happy.”

“You want to say anything, guv?” Sean looked over at the two senior officers quizzically and they shook their respective heads.

Sean turned back to address the men. “Right any questions?”

A DS from Drugs raised his hand and Lan answered, “Yes, Roy?”

“What about the Coopers? Will they be involved at all?”

Sean chose to answer the question, “No. I’m pretty certain that they will not be involved. They are sleazes and probably waiting for us to nick the Adams boys so that they can take over their territory.” There was a brief laugh from the assembled officers before Sean continued, “Okay, any more questions?”

He waited for a minute but no more hands rose. “Right, we’re done here. Piss off home now and remember there’ll be a final briefing back here in the morning at five sharp.”

Sean waited with Lan while the team filed out of the briefing room noticing, that the two DCIs had stayed put too. He looked at Cartwright. “I didn’t miss anything, did I?”

“No, the briefing was fine.”

“So what’s going on then?” Sean questioned.

Jack replied, “George and I have been talking and I’m not happy with you two being out there in the open until the threat from O’Donnell has been sorted. George disagrees but I think you two should take the inside roles and let us lead the teams.”

Sean spoke up, “No. This is our case and we both want to be in on taking down Tony Adams.”

Jack laughed, “Don’t get melodramatic on me, Sean. You know as well as I do that Tony Adams isn’t going to be anywhere near that dock tomorrow morning. If we do find anything, all it means is that we can haul him and his brothers in for questioning because we can prove that he owns Houlton’s and there might be a couple of his known associates there. Then we have to get the real information that will let us charge him and get him sent down for good.”

Lan spoke. “Come on, Jack, we can still work on the dock, we’re as safe there as anywhere. How can O’Donnell know where we are?”

Jack looked doubtful for a minute but eventually nodded. “Okay, I seem to be the lone dissenting voice here, George is happy for you two to lead so I’ll go along for now. But if we hear anything else, even rumours, about Patrick O’Donnell between now and tomorrow morning I’m pulling you two out.”

“I’m off then. We’ve got an early start tomorrow,” Carter said as he headed for the door, the only words he had uttered since the briefing began.

Sean glanced at Lan and, moving over to the briefing board, began to check the information pinned there, motioning for Lan to wait with him. As soon as George Carter had left the room and they heard the outer office door close, Sean turned to Jack. “What’s going on, guv?”

Cartwright ignored the question, walking over to the window and standing with his back to them instead. Sean turned to Lan. “There’s something he’s not saying and we need to get to the bottom of it.”

Suddenly, as though reaching a decision, Cartwright walked over and shut the door of the briefing room. He then turned to face them. Keeping his voice low he said, “Something is going on apart from the case you are working and the hit man from the States.”

“Like what?” Sean spoke quietly. He had the impression that whatever was coming now was for their ears only but bugger it; they were snowed under as it was.

“Like those upstairs don’t trust George Carter.” Cartwright waited for a moment as though he was allowing time for that bombshell to sink in. “There have been too many bad decisions in cases he has worked on that have let Tony Adams off scot-free.”

“What?” Lan’s eyebrows rose in agitation.

“It’s okay, no one is accusing you of anything untoward, Lando. I think one of the reasons that George has always kept you at a distance is that you make him nervous. He knows you are bright, ambitious and straight. Exactly the wrong person for him to have too close.”

“Shit, Jack, so what are we supposed to do now?” Sean was so pissed off at the way it seemed he and Lan were being manipulated, he didn't even raise a smile at the irony of Jack's comment that Lan was straight.

“I want you to go ahead with the plan. Getting us working together so that I can keep a close eye on Georgie boy is one of the reasons this joint operation was approved by Jennings.”

“How close are you to nicking him?” Lan asked.

“We’ve done some discreet checking and Carter has a lot of money in various bank accounts, much more than can be accounted for by his copper’s pay. His family are all skint and he’s never married so he hasn’t inherited from a wife’s family. He lives in a council flat but he’s got a property in Spain. In my opinion, because the money has been coming in over a long period, he’s working for Adams himself.”

“You a hundred percent sure, Jack?” Lan still sounded stunned by the rapid turn of events.

“No, I’m not, and at the moment I can’t challenge him on it. I need more information and some sort of corroboration.”

“What sort of corroboration?” Sean was intrigued and worried in almost equal measure.

“The bollocks I was spouting to George earlier was purely for effect. I want you two to lead that raid tomorrow. Then I’m going to let either Adams or O’Donnell make a move because sure as eggs is eggs something is going to go down tomorrow and I don’t think it is going to be busting Tony Adams for importing a shipload of heroin and cocaine.”

“No fucking way! You're hanging us out to dry! Neither of us are prancing around on the deck of that ship with fucking targets on our backs!”

Jack gestured at Sean, “Calm down, Sean. I wouldn’t send you out there without taking some precautions. You'll both be wearing vests and we will have the place locked down. If anyone makes a move it'll confirm there was a leak, because no one outside the teams here has the time and place of the raid. Then I can lean on Carter and get him to spill his guts.”

“Fuck you, Jack. I've just lost a good friend in Rob Newman and I don't want any more of our men at risk over some half-arsed scheme you and Jennings have cooked up. Someone is going to get hurt, you know that.” Lan gave Cartwright a look of disgust. “Call it off. Let them land the cargo. If Carter has told Adams we're going to be waiting, there won't be any cargo so we lose nothing.”

“Nothing?” Cartwright almost shouted. “Do me a favour. Nicking George Carter won't be nothing.”

Sean looked on in admiration as Lan stood face to face with Jack and refused to back down.

“But if this is just a set up for Adams there will be no drugs on the ship tomorrow. How are you going to nick Carter? All he has to do is deny everything,” Lan snarled.

“You evil bastard,” Sean snapped at Jack; he’d not lost a skipper or been told his boss was on the take so could be more objective. He’d already figured out Cartwright’s plan. “If there are drugs on the ship and someone still tries a hit then you know that O’Donnell has paid Carter off. No drugs mean that he is working for Adams.”

“Exactly.” Cartwright looked smug and Sean had to resist the temptation to wipe the smirk off his face with his fist.

“I don't want to visit any more families of coppers killed in the line of duty, Jack.” Lan persisted.

“Look, Lando. I understand your feelings but you're not the only one who's had to explain to a family that they need to set one less place at the table.” Then almost to himself he said, “Guess who had to go and see Yvonne Fletcher’s parents?”

Sean thought quickly, of course he knew who Yvonne Fletcher was, everyone in the country knew her name now. But did that mean that Jack had been working for Special Branch before he came to the Sweeney? He’d certainly never mentioned that before.

Jack had carried on talking while Sean was thinking.

“But if we can nick Carter and make him spill his guts, we've got the best possible chance of putting all three of the Adams brothers behind bars, where they belong. And, in case you forget, that means the risk to other coppers, the ones still out there doing their jobs, is a lot fucking less.”

Knowing there was no way they were going to be able to change Jack’s mind, especially when he had Jennings’ support, Sean backed down quickly. Lan was another matter. He continued to argue the toss for the next fifteen minutes until Sean wasn’t sure that Jack wouldn’t try to deck him, just to shut him up.

Eventually, with bad grace, Lan accepted Jack’s orders. “Fine, I’ll go along with your plan, Jack. But believe me if anything goes wrong and any of my men get hurt I’ll crucify you. And if it’s me, I promise I’ll come back and haunt you.”

That final comment didn’t reassure Sean in the slightest making him wonder if Lan had been entirely honest about his bad feeling concerning this job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yvonne Fletcher was a British police officer shot and killed during a protest outside the Libyan embassy in London in 1984


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The raid

The clock dial read six minutes past four when the sound of the alarm buzzer began to seep into Lan's consciousness. Reaching out he fumbled around until he found the off switch. Sean was still an inert mass at his back and he luxuriated in the familiar warmth. When Sean's arm curled around his waist, it was difficult to resist the temptation to ignore the world and go back to sleep.

Sean stirred and mumbled against his shoulder, tickling him and making him smile. Last night had been good; they’d gone to bed early and made love without their customary urgency but with the familiarity and caring of long term lovers. Sean had taken him slowly, wringing every last sensation out of their coupling. It had been beautiful and moving, demonstrating conclusively that no matter how rough or hurried sex was between them now, it was never fucking, it was always making love.

Lan squirmed around, forcing Sean to move too. Once he was settled, lying on his back, Sean snuggled into his side, pressing a light kiss to his collar bone before resting his head on Lan’s shoulder.

“You alright?” the words were muffled because Sean was talking into his shoulder but Lan understood.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Sean stretched, using it as an excuse to run his hand over Lan’s chest. “You sure?”

Lan still had misgivings that someone might be hurt but mostly he was sickened to his very core by the idea that Carter would put other coppers at risk for money. “You know me too well.” 

“It'll be fine. Jack said he has things well in hand.” Sean’s voice was soft and Lan could tell he was trying to calm him down.

“That's easy for him to say when he's going to be tucked up tight in the control room.”

Abruptly, Sean sat up and turned on his bedside light then turned back to face him. “Be honest with me, Lan. Is there something you're not telling me? It's not like you to be spooked so easily.”

Sitting up too and taking a deep breath he tried to explain. “I’m not so naive to imagine graft doesn’t happen. It wasn’t that long ago that Ken Drury and a dozen others were convicted and sent down. You were in the Squad then, Sean, you know how many more were pressured into resigning before they were charged too. The thing is, we’ve done the best we can but because George Carter is a greedy bastard, and Patrick O’Donnell is a crazy one, we can’t be sure that nobody will get hurt tomorrow.”

Sean shifted, taking his hand. “The risks are part of the job, you know that.”

“Yeah I do but…” Lan found himself unable to meet Sean’s gaze and instead stared at his hands. “It’s never felt like this before.” The words he had been trying to keep inside tumbled out before he could prevent them. “I’m scared in case you get hurt.”

“Look, we’ve done everything we can to avoid anyone getting hurt but we can’t control what other people might do. The lads with us are all good blokes, but I need you to have your mind on the job, not panicking about what might happen.”

Lan’s head shot up and he responded angrily. “Jesus, Sean I’m not that new to the job. I know I need to be focused.”

With a grin, Sean put one hand at the back of his neck and started to pull his head forward. Realising that Sean had deliberately wound him up to get him back on track, Lan allowed himself to be dragged closer into an almost chaste kiss.

It didn’t stay innocent for long as Sean pushed him onto the mattress, following him down until his weight was effectively pinning Lan to the bed. Not that Lan minded. He was already half hard and so, it appeared, was Sean.

Lifting his hips slightly, he groaned as their cocks rubbed against each other. Wanting more, he increased the pressure.

Taking the initiative, Lan rolled them until they were lying on their sides facing each other. Taking Sean’s hand in his, he wrapped them around the combined girth of their cocks. Sean matched his movements, pushing his cock through the ring made by their fingers at the same time as Lan. It only took minutes for them both the reach their peak.

Ignoring the stickiness of his hand, Lan wound his arms around Sean’s neck and held on to his anchor in the current chaos of his life. “Love you.”

“Yeah I know. Love you too,” Sean kissed him once more, grinning as he pulled away. “I suppose we ought to get up and into the shower. It wouldn’t do for two of the men who’re running this show to be late or turn up all hot and bothered.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From the window of the small Portacabin perched on the dockside about fifty yards further inland than Houlton’s warehouse, Lan took another look through the binoculars. The Minerva had arrived alongside the pier a few minutes earlier and the dockworkers were just finishing up securing the mooring lines. He looked over the group of ten men waiting with him. They were all guys he’d worked with before, mostly from the Squad, but a few from Drugs as well. His stomach rumbled and he regretted that he’d only had time for coffee before they left home earlier.

He sniffed and searched his pocket for a tissue. Thank Christ he wasn’t waiting outside; he’d have drowned the whole team with the way his nose was running this morning. He looked over at the tug moored a bit further along the jetty and thankfully couldn’t see any sign of Sean or the men, who were concealed on board.

A sudden clanging noise alerted him to the lowering of the gangways; the one he was heading for coming down slightly quicker than the one at the stern of the ship. Simultaneously, two of his men, wearing the uniforms of customs officers, arrived in a small black Ford, pulling up at the ramp closest to his position. Looking through the binoculars again, he saw a man wearing a dark cap edged with gold braid appear at the top of the gangway carrying a black leather folder under one arm.

Lan picked up his two way radio, his nerves suddenly disappearing now that the job was on. “No sign of Adams or any of his friends. How long do you think I should wait?”

Sean came back immediately, “Can’t see much reason to wait more than a couple of minutes. If anyone appears to be leaving the ship we can move at once.”

“Okay, sounds good to me.” Lan waited, shifting uncomfortably and trying to get some feeling back in his cramped legs. “Moving in thirty seconds, Sean.”

“Roger.” His partner’s voice came through the speaker, garbled and almost unrecognisable.

Lan pulled the police issue revolver from his pocket and checked the safety catch was engaged before putting it back into his jacket pocket. He turned to his men. “Okay, lads, get yourself up and ready to move. Remember, no shooting unless absolutely necessary.”

With minimal fuss, he led the group out of the small doorway and onto the dock. A sudden gust of wind made him shiver despite the jacket, so he pulled the zip up. Further along the dock, he could see some of Sean’s team gathering the dockworkers who had been arriving, ready to unload the ship, into a group. He knew they were keeping a special look out for Adams’ men in case they had chosen to mingle with the workers to avoid notice. Satisfied that neither of the Armstrong brothers or Donovan were amongst the group, two of Sean’s men moved them away and into the Portacabin. The rest headed for the stern gangway.

The customs officers were already at the top of the ramp. Lan followed them closely, using them to disguise his approach and hopefully minimise any warning of the raid.

Walking quickly, but at the same time trying to appear casual, he reached into his inside pocket and pulled out the folded search warrant he had for the ship. As he reached the top of the gangway the customs men stood aside and he handed the document to the Captain offering his warrant card proving his identity with the other hand.

“Detective Inspector Bloom, Drugs Squad. I have a warrant here to search your ship for illegal narcotic substances, Captain Wolfe.”

“Drugs? On my ship? Preposterous!”

Lan ignored the bluster. Whether Wolfe knew about the drugs or not made no difference. “Will you allow us to search, Captain?” Lan wanted to get moving; he felt exposed on the deck.

He was gratified when Wolfe didn’t make a fuss.

Nodding gravely, the captain spoke. “My employers would expect me to assist the police with their enquiries, Inspector. Of course you will have my co-operation. Please bring your men aboard and if myself or my crew can assist in anyway you have only to ask.”

“Thank you, Captain, that won’t be necessary. We will try to search as quickly as possible to avoid detaining your ship for longer than necessary.” Lan spoke into the radio again, “Okay, Sean, get your guys on board.”

Like a well-oiled team, the men spread out, heading for the hold area. Lan had never appreciated before just how large even a small vessel was and he was doubtful that, even if there were drugs hidden on board, they could ever hope to search this one properly and find them in a reasonable amount of time. Pressing the transmit button on his radio he spoke again. “Jack, get the dogs sent over. We’ll never search something of this size properly in the time available.”

“Affirmative.” Cartwright’s answer was short and to the point and Lan could hear the tension in his voice. Well, he had a lot riding on the operation, not just the possibility of harm to Sean or Lan.

As Lan watched, Sean sent the rest of his people off to join the search. They’d barely been aboard for five minutes and he’d turned to watch Sean walk across the deck when, from the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of light. Twisting round to have a closer look, he saw the flash repeated from the cab of a dockside crane. It looked like early morning sunlight reflecting off something metallic inside the cab.

Just as the thought rushed through his mind that there shouldn’t be anyone up in the cab this early, he was shaken by the sound of a gunshot.

Wrenching himself back around, he just had time to see Sean’s body jerk as though from an invisible impact. Before his lover hit the ground Lan reacted instinctively and was off and running. Any thought of his own safety was completely forgotten as he yelled at the others, pointing frantically over his shoulder, “In the crane. Get to the crane and grab the bastard before he gets away.”

He hadn’t covered more than a couple of yards before he heard the echo of another shot and then something thumped him in the back, hard. Already running, he was off balance but his momentum carried him forward another few yards until his foot caught in a coil of rope and he fell, slamming headfirst into a piece of the ship’s superstructure. He felt the impact and a sudden pain in his head before the lights went out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From his vantage point in an office at the end of the jetty, George Carter watched with what might be considered misplaced pride as, despite their two senior officers being gunned down, the rest of the men reacted professionally, first taking cover and assessing the situation. Then, when they were sure the danger was past, rushing into action to try to detain the shooter. Now, some of the team were looking over the side of the Minerva and shouting, while others were dashing towards the gangplank.

Safely out of the line of fire, George had seen the gunman make his escape in the brief confusion, jumping from the crane into the dock and swimming quickly to a small rubber dingy moored nearby. He had to hand it to Tony Adams, the organisation of the hit had been sweet.

All he had to do now was manage to express sufficient sorrow at the loss of two loyal officers, killed whilst doing their duty. Then, in a couple of months, he could avail himself of the permanent offer of early retirement for senior officers in the Met and take up residence in Spain.

Realising that if he delayed checking in with the teams any longer it would look suspicious, George lifted the radio to his mouth and spoke, making sure his voice sounded shaky, “Carter here, I heard shots and think I saw Bean and Bloom go down, has anyone called for medical assistance? And have you managed to get the bastard who did this?”

A voice came back to him. “DS Reed here, guv. That’s an affirmative on the medics. Don’t think they’ll have much to do though. And the bastard got away.”

“I’m coming down.”

George took the time to put on his coat before he made his way out of the office, puzzling over the apparent lack of emotion in Mickey Reed’s voice. Oh well, maybe he hated that bugger Bean too and wasn’t sorry to see the back of him.

As he left the office his radio crackled again and a very agitated Jack Cartwright yelled, “What the fuck is going on? I heard at least two shots and can’t reach Bean or Bloom.”

Hurrying now and aware that his heavy breathing probably made anything he said unintelligible, George thumbed the transmit button, “I saw them go down, I’m on my way over there right now to find out exactly what's happening.”

“What’s their condition?”

“I don’t know but Reed’s called for help. It looks like that bastard O’Donnell found out what we had planned and got one up on us.”

“Christ! I knew I should have pulled them off this. I’m on my way.”

Smiling slightly, George tucked the radio back in his pocket and taking a breath, started up the forward gangway.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the raid and the unmasking of a traitor mean that Sean and Lan are going to be faced with a very difficult choice.

Carter could hear sirens approaching as he headed up the gangway towards the main deck. Panting heavily when he reached the top, he saw with surprise that Cartwright was already there, kneeling beside a coat shrouded form. As he got closer he was more than a bit puzzled to see Cartwright leaning heavily on the supposed corpse while it thrashed about and appeared to be trying to get up.

Twenty feet away George could see a smaller group of the men gathered around the other body; these men were looking a little more serious.

Still out of breath from his headlong rush to get on the ship, George turned to Cartwright and spat, “How did you get here so quickly?”

Cartwright’s grim expression sent tendrils of concern around George’s spine. It looked like he had a problem. 

“I lied when I told you where I was going to be.” Cartwright shifted his attention to the body at his feet and pulled the jacket back so Bean’s head was just visible. “Fucking stay down, Sean.”

“Not until you tell me how the fuck he is.” Bean started struggling again so, with a shrug, Cartwright moved away slightly. 

Bean sat up at once, turning to look over in the direction of the other corpse.

Cartwright looked over at the other body too. “Lando’s fine, he wasn’t shot, he just knocked himself out for a couple of minutes when he went down. Now he’s lying still and playing dead, just like you should be doing.”

Bean turned his head and glared in his direction. “Then get that treacherous cunt out of my sight. I will not be held responsible if I see that fucker again without a set of prison bars between us.” 

Recoiling from the hatred in Bean’s gaze, George didn’t pay much attention to his words. But as they filtered through he began to panic. 

Telling himself to stay calm, he’d been in the force for more than twenty years and dealt with much tougher characters than Bean or Cartwright before, George blustered, “What the fuck’s going on here. I got a radio message to say that Bean and Bloom had been shot. Now you’re telling me they’re fine.”

Cartwright rose to his feet and George had the impression of a lion stalking its prey. It must be something to do with the shaggy mane of blond hair he decided. Keeping his voice steady he demanded, “I want to know what’s going on and I want to know now.”

“I don’t think you want this discussion out in the open, George.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” His hands felt sweaty and George had to consciously stop them from shaking.

Grabbing his arm, Cartwright dragged him over to the rail. The sound of sirens grew to ear splitting volume as an ambulance finally pulled up by the end of the gangplank. When he glanced back over his shoulder Bean had subsided back down onto the deck with Reed now kneeling beside his head and talking to him urgently.

“I mean that we need a serious talk about how you've been bought by Adams and how you betrayed two fellow officers because of your greed.”

“How dare you accuse me of graft. That’s a bunch of bollocks! You have no proof of any of this.”

Cartwright leaned closer. “Oh but I do, George. I have bank account information and the fact that only you, me, Sean and Lando knew the exact time and location of this raid before it happened. I’m also positive we won’t find anything incriminating on board, unless it’s a crewmember’s stash of porn, no matter how long we search.”

“What about the grass or the others in the team? Wilkins knew what time the ship was docking. He could have been a plant just to set them up. Or one of the others is on the take. I’m not a traitor!” George said desperately.

“I know this was a set up. I also think it was set up by someone who knew about the threat from Patrick O’Donnell and tipped off Tony Adams, so that he could use it to his best advantage.” Cartwright was implacable. “The two of you set up the poor sod who was giving information to Bloom with just enough to get us here, so that Adams could get rid of two thorns in his side in one go and lay the blame on someone else. I bet you were feeling threatened by Bloom. He’s bright and you knew he’d rumble you sooner or later. By getting rid of him you’d have more time to line your pockets before you disappeared off into the sunset.” Cartwright continued, “What d’you reckon, George, is it worth carrying on with the search of the ship? If we do and come up blank that’s just one more nail in your coffin.”

George looked over as the ambulance men carried the first of the blanket-shrouded bodies away and noted, in a detached way, that Bean was staying still at last. 

He was fucked; there was no getting away from it. Cartwright was as straight as a die and there was no way he’d let George slip away. To delay the inevitable he said, “So why aren’t they dead? I can’t believe that a professional shooter missed, even at that range.” He walked towards the front of ship just as the second body was carried away with Cartwright following him closely.

Seeing how tense Cartwright was Carter sneered. "You think I’d jump and take the chance that the fall wouldn’t kill me then?”

“If I could guarantee you’d drown, I’d bloody well throw you in myself.” Cartwright gestured at the group of men standing on deck. “Don’t get too cocky; all it would need would be a word in the ears of a couple of those men over there and I’d have plenty of help throwing your miserable carcase overboard. And to answer your question, they were wearing bullet proof vests.”

“So all this was a charade? They were taking a bit of a risk though; the shooter could have gone for a headshot.”

“You know as well as I do that a pro goes for the body, it’s a bigger target. If you use the right ammo you’ve still got a sure fire kill.” Cartwright smiled finally, “And now I’ve got you dead to rights. I feel sorry for Bloom though, he actually wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

George sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. He needed to be calm and weigh his options. If he didn’t roll over and finger Tony Adams he was going to go down and he knew what happened in the nick. If he didn’t spend all of his time in solitary, he would be fair game for any bastard who fancied some payback. If he did spill his guts, Adams would put the finger on him and his life still wouldn’t be worth a brass farthing unless he got some protection.

Looking at the implacability of Cartwright’s stare he knew he was going to have to try to make the best of a bad option. So eventually, and reluctantly, he said, “I’ll make a deal.”

“What have you got?” Cartwright didn’t sound keen but that wasn’t anything George hadn’t done himself in the past to get a suspect to part with more information than intended.

“I can stand up in court and say that Adams tried to have Bean and Bloom killed, that he was responsible for the death of the informant Wilkins –“

“He’s dead? The informant?” Cartwright interrupted.

“Yeah. Harry Adams did it last night. Not sure if his body will ever turn up though. It’s probably in the boot of a car in the dock.”

“Keep going.”

“I can also finger Adams for several other murders as well as a load of protection rackets. I’ve got names, places and dates. I figured I might need some insurance someday.” He looked Cartwright in the eye. “In return, I want guaranteed protection from prosecution. He’s got other coppers on his payroll so if I roll over on Adams the news will spread. I can’t go inside, I won’t last a day.”

“You know the names of the others on the take?”

George’s heart sank that was one thing he’d never been able to find out. He wondered if he could string Cartwright along for long enough to get some of the charges against him dropped. But he knew it wouldn’t work so he finally answered honestly, “No I don’t know them. I’ve only got Adams word that he does have anyone else but he did have the information about the O’Donnell case.”

Cartwright began to walk away and George’s heart sank. Looking over his shoulder he offered, “It’s not enough. I’d get ready for a spell in the Scrubs, if I were you, George. The force’ll recommend that you go into solitary, but you know as well as I do that you’ll find yourself eating ground glass or being force fed bleach within the week.”

“Shit! I've just handed you the top crime family in the city on a platter; what more do you want?”

“I want the ones responsible for the murder of Tommy Adams’ family.”

“Christ! You don’t want much.” 

George thought for a moment longer and finally shrugged. He was so deep in the shit there was no difference between grassing a little or a lot on Adams… “It wasn’t the Coopers who got Tommy Adams, it was Tony himself. Tommy wanted to leave the family business for the sake of his kids and Tony wasn’t having any of it. They argued and well, you know the rest.”

“Can you prove this?”

“Yes.”

“Is your evidence airtight?”

“I think so, but what a jury will make of it is anyone’s guess.”

“Okay, I’ll think about it.”

George’s heart sank. What more could he use? An idea began to form in his head. Cartwright might be more willing to agree to a deal if he did something to help out Bean and Bloom. Two good coppers he’d called them…. “Wait!” 

“What?”

Carter prepared to play his final card and hoped it was enough, “Something else, not about Adams but it might help Bloom and Bean prepare themselves for when the case goes to court.”

“Prepare for what?” Cartwright eyed him suspiciously. 

For a moment George wavered; he wasn’t sure if Cartwright would even believe him.

“Spit it out, I haven’t got all day. What about Bean and Bloom?”

“Adams set one of his people to watch them. He was trying to figure out if they could be bought.”

“And?”

“Will you guarantee that I won’t go down?”

“Come on, Carter, you know I can’t do that. Just tell me what you know and I’ll see what I can do to help you.”

“Adams found out that they’re fucking poofters. Bent as nine bob notes the pair of them.” George found himself fumbling with the words when Cartwright didn’t react. “They fuck.” He’d hoped to shock the other man but Cartwright’s expression didn’t waver in the slightest.

Shaking his head, Cartwright said, “And you imagine that this is something I haven’t worked out for myself? I just spent ages trying to stop Sean from ruining my scheme to catch you because he thought Lando was hurt.”

“Yeah, well Tony Adams has pictures of them together that prove they’re bent and he’ll use them. If Bean and Bloom are planning to give evidence against him, you can bet your life one of his scummy friends will make sure those pictures hit all the papers before the trial to ruin their credibility. He says he has contacts so he might try to get them kicked out of the force. That way they’ll be even more at risk.”

Cartwright seemed to consider for a moment, and George allowed himself to hope that he might have come up with something that gave him a chance to avoid jail time.

Finally, after what seemed an age, Cartwright nodded. “Okay much as I hate the idea of dealing with you I want Tony Adams behind bars more. So if Sean doesn’t kill you for setting him and Lando up, I’ll see what I can do about a deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Scrubs refers to Wormwood Scrubs, a Victorian prison in west London. It mostly holds prisoners who need maximum security to avoid any risk of escape but they are generally aren't the worst category of prisoners


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fall-out begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feeling decidedly sub standard at the moment so please let me know if you spot any mistakes - also comments are a storyteller's friend - they encourage us to keep on writing!

Jack strolled down the corridor, feeling decidedly pleased with himself. In his mind the outcome had justified his decision to take a slight risk with the lives of two of his men. Neither of them had been seriously hurt and he'd got Carter to talk, providing enough evidence to put Tony Adams and his brothers away for a long, long time. The only problem now was finding the best way to let Bean and Bloom know that their secret was out.

He'd only known Bloom for a couple of weeks but Sean had been part of his team for more than two years and Jack knew first hand he was an asset to the team. When they set up the task force, Jack had seen reports on Bloom identifying him as a high-flyer, someone who had moved up through the ranks quickly, eventually becoming the youngest DI in the Met. Jack didn't think for a moment that Bloom had used his sexuality to move up so quickly. He'd been around for long enough to know that being queer was a positive liability in this job. If anything he admired that Bloom had been able to keep the information hidden for so long, given his looks. No, there hadn't been a single whisper about Bloom around the squad's offices. And none of his team had ever mentioned anything to implicate either of them, even though they must have had an idea something was going on. Just seeing the two of them together had sent up warning flares in Jack’s mind. 

In hindsight, Jack supposed a lot of things now made much more sense. He'd always wondered why Bean had been so quick to stick his neck out for Bloom in the O'Donnell case. Handing yourself over to a certifiable nutter like that could possibly be explained away by Bean putting himself in the line of fire as the superior officer. That assumed of course, that something had been going on between them then. As Jack recalled from something he’d overheard, they'd only started sharing the house after that. So had that incident prompted them to get together? Or had it been going on longer? The point was academic anyway. Either way they were screwed. Try as he might he was not going to be able to put off Jennings. It looked as though the only choice he was going to be able to give them was how the information got out.

Stopping outside the small, out of the way office, he took a deep breath. He felt like a complete bastard, knowing he was going to destroy two very promising careers in the next ten minutes. 

Remembering Bloom's bang on the head, he opened the door carefully.

“Well? What happened?” Sean snapped, as soon as he got inside the room. 

They’d been confined here since they’d been smuggled out of the hospital and, apart from Bloom phoning his mother to let her know he was okay, they’d been kept incommunicado. Now it appeared from his constant pacing that Sean was royally pissed off.

Coming to a stop with the door immediately behind him, Jack didn't even acknowledge Sean's question. He had one of his own first. “He okay?” He nodded towards Bloom, who was sitting at a table, his head resting on his hands.

“Aside from a mild concussion and the fact that they wanted to keep him in hospital for observation, yeah. So come on tell us, what happened with Carter?”

“He coughed. Spilt his bloody guts, if the truth be told. Gave me names, dates and places.”

“That's fucking brilliant. Better than we could have hoped.”

“It’s not all good news though, he told me the snout, Wilkins, is dead. Harry Adams topped him last night.”

“Fuck!” Bloom swore.

Jack didn't miss, the way Sean glanced over at Bloom. Checking he was okay no doubt. Not waiting for any further interruptions, Jack continued, “There's a complication.”

“A what?” Bean whirled around to face him.

A groan and, “Jesus, Sean, could you stop bloody shouting,” came from Bloom.

“Sorry.”

Bloom, who had looked up at words, dropped his head back down onto the table with another groan.

Sean tried again, whispering this time. “What complication?” 

Feeling more and more uncomfortable, Jack began, “Carter told me that Adams sent one of his sleazy private detectives to check up on you two, looking to find something he could use to make you back off.”

Sean moved away and closer to Bloom, gripping his shoulder. “And?”

“He’s got pictures of the two of you. Pictures Carter says Adams’ll use if anything comes to court.”

“Pictures?” 

Sean was trying to play dumb and for some reason it irked him. So he snapped out, “Pictures, proving that you two are lovers. Pictures he hopes will ruin your credibility and your careers.” 

In the silence of the room you could have heard a pin drop and Jack suspected they were both too stunned to say anything.

“How about if we ignore Adams and just Carter goes in the dock?” Lan spoke finally.

Jack didn’t even have to think about his answer. “If we charge Carter only, he’ll tell his brief about the pictures and that he offered concrete information to send Tony Adams down. The lawyer will make a fuss about us not charging a well-known criminal and our credibility will be in the toilet. Whether Carter will be able to produce any pictures is neither here nor there, getting the information out there will be enough and you two will be smeared by association. I can see the headlines in the red tops now. ‘Queer cops leave mobster free to hide their shame,’ or something similarly lurid. The alternative, if we make a deal to go easy on Carter and charge Adams and his brothers instead, is that the pictures are sure to be made public which will have the same effect.”

“Okay, so let’s get this straight, if Carter is charged with corruption we’ve got enough evidence to convict him but there is a good chance that allegations will be made about me and Sean,” Lan spoke calmly, “But those allegations are unlikely to be backed up with concrete evidence.” He continued ticking off points on his fingers. “But once we go after the family, for the murder of Chas Wilkins and Tommy’s family, paying off a police officer and anything else we can make stick, the pictures will find their way into one of the tabloids and we can kiss our jobs goodbye because those at the top are scared that having queer officers will affect the integrity of the force.”

“Pretty much,” Cartwright nodded.

“And we all know that queer cops are so much more likely to go on the take,” Lan stated, his tone uncharacteristically scathing.

“How do you feel about this, Jack? More important, how do you feel about us?” Sean asked.

He'd anticipated the question but had so far not come up with an answer he was happy to share, particularly with Sean. It would be too easy to reveal too much. “First, having seen you this morning, Sean, when you thought Lando was hurt, it doesn't surprise me. As for how I feel about the two of you, it doesn’t bother me that you prefer men, I wouldn’t honestly care if you wanted to bugger donkeys as long as you did your job well. ”

“So what do we do now?” Sean asked.

“We’re going to nick Adams. Then you two have to decide whether you resign or whether you fight for a decent settlement. Either way you’re not going to be able to stay in the job. Resigning will lose you any credibility with a jury and Adams’ brief will have a field day in court. If you stick it out, eventually you’ll get offered a pension.”

“A pension?” Bloom said incredulously, “I’m not even thirty. How are they going to make that work?”

“Okay, maybe not a pension. You’ve been hurt in the line of duty so they’ll probably offer you early retirement due to ill health. It doesn’t matter. You can still hold your heads up in public because you didn’t cut and run.” Jack opened the door and half turned to face them, “I’ll let you have some time to talk over the options.”

Once the door had closed behind him, Jack slumped into a nearby chair to count his blessings. Sean hadn’t threatened him because Bloom had been hurt and they’d taken the news that their careers in the force were over much better than he’d hoped or deserved. In the face of their resigned acceptance of the shit storm about to land on their heads, Jack had been made to feel like a right bastard.

In his whole life, despite every shitty thing he’d ever done, he’d never felt this guilty before.

Seeing Sean’s driver, Harry, coming towards him, Jack gave himself a shake. He couldn’t afford to let any hint of what was going to happen out just yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sean waited until the door had closed before turning to Lan. “So what do you think?”

Lan sat upright in the chair and faced Sean, “There’s not really anything to decide. When we decided to get together we knew that there was a possibility it would all come out. And we’d never live with ourselves if we let any of them get away with any of it.”

Even though Lan had spoken the very words that Sean would have said had he been the one asked, Sean’s heart swelled with pride for his lover’s courage and integrity. Now that he didn’t have to worry about the consequences any longer, Sean pulled Lan to his feet and into his arms, “I love you, you know.” He buried his face in Lan’s neck, letting the familiar scent reassure him.

“Yeah, I know.” Lan’s arms tightened around him. “Love you too.”

Sean signed but didn’t to let go, “It’s going to get rough. People we thought were our friends will have nothing to do with us from now on.”

“No shit! Tell me something I don’t know.” Lan pulled back and looked Sean in the eye, giving him a little shake at the same time. “It doesn’t matter, we’ll get through it together.”

Suddenly everything fell into place and Sean smiled. “Yeah, you’re right. We will.” 

Opening the door of the office, Sean saw Jack deep in conversation with his driver. Harry nodded at Sean, “Hello, guv, how’s Lando’s head?”

“He’ll live,” Sean answered abruptly.

Jack turned to Harry, “Give us a few minutes, Harry. Sean, Lando and I have a few loose ends to tie up.”

“Sure, guv.”

Sean waited until Jack had come back into the office, “Jack, we’ve decided. We’re going for them all and we’ll live with the consequences.” Sean laughed, “Besides I always wanted to retire and run a pub.”

A broad smile creased Cartwright’s face, “I didn’t expect any less of you two. You know it’s going to be rough? And because some of our bosses are homophobic bastards, they’ll make it as tough for you as they can?”

Taking Lan’s hand Sean said, “It’s worth it to keep our self respect. Just do us a favour though, Jack.”

“What?” 

“Let us go and nick the bastards.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was with the greatest pleasure that Sean knocked on the door of the flashy house in Highbury. Dave was beside him and there was a team of men who had been chosen specially for their loyalty towards Sean making their way around to the back of the house to cut off that escape route. As soon as he got the thumbs up from Harry that the other groups, led by Lan and Jack Cartwright, were in position outside the houses of Harry and Billy Adams, Sean banged the ornate door knocker creating an unearthly din.

Surprisingly, Adams himself came to answer the door. “What?”

Sean smiled, despite everything else hanging over him and Lan; this was going to be the dog’s bollocks of a day. “Tony Adams?”

“Yeah.”

“My name is Detective Inspector Bean –“

“I know who you are–“

Sean kept on talking, most of the men with him had been briefed and already knew what accusations Adams was likely to toss around, “Anthony James Adams, I am arresting you for the murder of Thomas Harold Adams. You do not have to say anything, but anything you do say may be written down and used in evidence against you. Do you understand what I’ve said?”

Once Adams had nodded his assent, Sean turned to his DS. “Get the cuffs on him, Dave.”

As Dave spun the man around and pulled his arms behind his back, Adams spat out, “I’ll be back on the street in less than an hour, Bean.”

Sean chuckled, “No you won’t, you bastard, because Carter has spilled his guts. You are going down for so long you’ll likely die there.” 

Dave was dragging him over to the police van that stood with its rear doors open and just before Adams was shoved inside, he turned and shouted, “Don’t think this is over yet, Bean! You and your faggot of a boyfriend are going to be well and truly fucked if you carry on with this. I’ve got pictures of the two of you and I’ll make sure they get to the press. You won’t be able to hide behind a row of badges for much longer.”

Ignoring the surprised looks from some of his team, Sean strode over to the van and got in Adams face, keeping his voice low he said, “You know what? It’s worth it just to see you get what’s coming. At least I won’t be looking out from behind bars for the next fifty years.”

Sean waited until the van holding Tony Adams was moving before walking over to his car. Unlike a couple of the others Harry seemed unruffled by Adams revelations, for which Sean was grateful. It had been a rough day all round and he didn’t think he’d be able to cope with Harry suddenly looking at him differently.

As he sat down, the radio bleeped

“You there, Sean?” 

“Yeah, Lan. Everything go okay with Harry Adams? Did the bastard try something?”

“It went like clockwork. He was wasted but still tried to have a go so I clobbered him. I told him it was for Chas but I’m not sure he understood, he was so out of it. I know Chas wasn’t a particularly pleasant person to be around but he did care about his old mum.”

Sean couldn’t resist checking up on him even though Lan sounded remarkably cheerful, “You’re okay, head not any worse?”

“I’m fine. Oh, and this’ll make you laugh, it looked like his missus had got wind of his arrest and done a bunk. I’ve got the customs people keeping an eye out for her but she probably had a small plane waiting at a private airport somewhere around London and we’ll never see her again.”

“No sign of O’Donnell?”

“Nah, he didn’t show. I’m wondering if he is just a rumour and even though Carter didn’t finger him for it, I wonder if Adams had something to do with the hit and run that killed Rob.”

“You’re still wearing the vest though?” Sean felt a frisson of fear work through him in case Lan had taken chances.

“Of course." Sean heard the sound of a car engine starting. “Right Harry is on his way so I’ll meet you back at the Yard to get the paperwork sorted?” 

“Yeah okay. We'll get this case wrapped up and maybe give Bodie and Doyle a call and see if they've got time to go out for a pint once we're done?” Sean suggested.

"Sounds good to me." Lan agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Red tops = cheaper more sensationalised newspapers


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A view of the shit storm engulfing Sean and Lan by their friends Bodie and Doyle. Also a reminder that it is coming close to that time of year again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for posting a day late - we were away and had little or no Internet connection.

Doyle’s shout of anger brought Bodie crashing down the stairs. When he reached the bottom and looked around he was puzzled because he couldn’t see anything wrong or out of place. In exasperation he looked at his partner. “Where’s the fire? I nearly broke my bloody neck coming down those stairs so fast.”

Tight-lipped, Doyle didn’t say a word, just held out the morning paper, tilting it so that Bodie could see the front page headlines.

“Senior Cops Are Queer!” screamed the headline from the tabloid newspaper. The pictures of two men, below the large letters of the headline, might have been out of focus but Bodie recognised their faces easily. Raising an eyebrow to seek permission, he took the paper out of Doyle’s hand. “I take it you haven’t read the article yet?”

“Nah. Just saw the headline and the pictures,” Doyle snarled.

Bodie scanned the words quickly. It wasn’t difficult as the paper concerned tended not to expect too much from its readers and rarely used words of more than two syllables. “Christ, Sean and Lan are in the shit. They’ve been outed.”

“Who by?”

“A drug dealer and a bent copper,” Bodie said.

“Who’s the copper?”

“George Carter, Lan’s boss in Drugs. Apparently he was also working for Tony Adams, you know - of the Adams family from Clerkenwell.”

“Yeah. I know him. He wasn’t such a big player when I was with the Met.” Shaking his head in disbelief, Doyle continued, “You mean they’re taking the word of a bent copper and a scummy crook over that of two of their own?”

Bodie nodded. “Looks like it. The paper says they’ve got pictures.”

“Pictures?”

“Yep, of the two of them in a compromising position.”

“They’re trying to ruin their creditability as coppers, aren’t they?”

Bodie nodded again. “Looks like it.”

“Let me guess, the bastards at the Yard aren’t going to back them either.”

Bodie smiled sardonically. “What do you think? They’ll make all the right noises but they’ll hang them out to dry.”

Doyle gestured with his head. “I need some coffee, then I want to give them a ring, make sure they’re okay,” Doyle continued, talking to himself more than Bodie. “I wasn’t expecting to get in touch with them until next week.”

“I nearly forgot about Halloween,” Bodie agreed following Doyle into the kitchen. Once there, he sat on one of the stools by the counter, put the paper down and continued reading while Ray filled the kettle.

“They’ve really got pictures?” Doyle looked up from the mugs, where he was spooning coffee granules. “I can’t believe Sean or Lan would be that careless.”

Bodie nodded. “Yeah, on page eight apparently. According to the guy who wrote this, they were investigating Adams and he wanted to warn them off so he set his tame private eye on them. The sleaze managed to get some compromising shots.” He read some more of the article. “Bugger, it says here that Lan’s DS had been killed by a hit and run driver on the day the photos were taken. It’s no wonder they weren’t as careful as usual."

While Ray poured the water, Bodie turned the pages. He looked up when a mug was placed down beside him rather heavily. “What?” He looked at Ray, trying for an innocent expression.

Doyle sat beside him, giving Bodie a knowing stare. “Page eight huh? Don’t try to cover it up, you’ve had the hots for Lan ever since he had to pretend to be your date and you didn’t get a kiss goodnight.”

Bodie snorted with laughter. “Yeah, right. There was no way anything was going to happen, Sean would have had my nuts. Besides, you would have had something to say about it if we’d got up to anything.”

“I know.” Doyle gave a small smile and picking up the receiver he rang a number from memory. "I'm going to call them."

Finally reaching page eight, Bodie looked at the very fuzzy image reproduced there. It showed Sean and Lan in an embrace. Lan appeared to be just out of the shower, as he had a towel around his hips. Sean was fully clothed with his shirt opened and hanging lose outside his trousers. No doubt about the identity of the people in the picture though, not that he’d thought there would be. Tabloids might be keen on sensationalism but they weren’t going to take on the Met Police unless they were sure of their evidence.

Suddenly disgusted with himself and the editor of the paper he screwed it up and threw it in the direction of the rubbish bin. His attention switched back to Doyle who had just hung up the phone. “Well? How’re they doing?”

“No idea. I can’t bloody get through. The line’s busy all the time. They’ve probably taken it off the hook.”

Bodie looked at his watch, they still had a couple of hours before they needed to be anywhere. “We could drop by their place. It’s not too far away.”

Ray shook his head. “The press have probably got their place staked out. We’d just add to their problems if we showed up.”

“What can we do then?”

“Knowing the Met, they’re likely to have a lot of time on their hands for the foreseeable future. They won’t keep their jobs. And even if they did, they’d be taking their lives in their hands every time they went out on a call. You know how it goes, backup not being in the right place at the right time to stop someone getting a kicking.”

“God, that’s just bollocks. Is there nothing we can do?”

Doyle rested his hand on Bodie’s shoulder, “I know the hypocrisy of the force shouldn’t surprise me, but I keep on hoping that one day someone will see the light. They'll have a tougher time when Adams and Carter come to trial. We’re just going to have to help them move forward once the court case is over.”

Bodie lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I feel bad because it’s not been an issue for us. Cowley’s fine as long as we don’t let our feelings get in the way of the job.” He sat in thought for a minute and then added, “You think he’d make Lan and Sean an offer?”

Ray seemed to give the idea some consideration and then shook his head. “It wouldn't work. It might have done before they were outed but with all this publicity Cowley’d never entertain the idea. They could never work undercover, they’d either be recognised outright or their faces would ring the wrong kind of bells.”

After turning that over in his mind, Bodie responded, “You’re right, as always. The whole situation sucks though.”

Draining his coffee, Bodie took the empty mug over to the sink. Walking back over to Ray, he leaned down beside him. Angling his head, he let his breath drift over Ray’s ear, knowing what that did to the other man. It was difficult to hide his grin of satisfaction when Doyle shivered, twitching his head and shoulders. Keeping his voice low, Bodie said, “You reckon, now that they’re out of the closet, they’d come to a club with us or consider a foursome?” Ray turned his head so fast Bodie feared for his neck and he had a hard time hiding his smirk.

“Are you serious?”

He didn’t reply, merely let his smile grow broader.

Ray suddenly twigged. “You bastard. You really had me going there! You know as well as I do that there’s no way either of them is going to look at anyone else.”

“I know, but it got you thinking for a minute.”

“You wait. I’ll get my own back.”

Bodie grinned at his partner again. “Looking forward to it sunshine, looking forward to it.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life in front of the camera lens of the Press

Sean pulled the bedroom curtain aside a fraction and peered through the resulting gap. A large group of photographers were still huddled together outside their front gate, talking and smoking. He grimaced; it didn't look like their number had diminished overnight. In fact there seemed to be even more of them. Bastards!

They'd turned up to camp on their doorstep within minutes of Jack Cartwright's phone call warning him that Tony Adams' brief had made a statement to the press on his client's behalf. Sean had no sooner put the phone down than it had rung again. He'd answered it without thinking and the caller had started firing questions at him nineteen to the dozen.

He'd slammed the phone down immediately. That the press had got hold of their address and phone number so quickly meant the Met was haemorrhaging information so Lan's family's details would be available to anyone with money to spend. It had taken a while but Lan had eventually got through to his mother, explaining the situation and warning her to make herself and his grandmother scarce. Luckily, Sean didn’t have any close family who would be bothered by the pack of hyenas now stalking them.

Someone outside must have seen the curtain twitch because suddenly all the cameras were pointed in his direction. Even though he knew they couldn’t see anything he let go of the curtain as though it was red hot, so that it swung back into its original position. Bloody hell, it had only been a day. He wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to be able to put up with being cooped up indoors.

Lan came into the room, wearing a towelling robe. He held a small towel in one hand and he periodically wiped it over his face, catching the water dripping from his damp curls. “They still there?”

“'Course they bloody are, the buggers,” Sean snapped.

Lan sighed in what sounded like exasperation. “Bollocks! Just give it a rest, Sean. They’ll eventually move onto some other poor sods, so the last thing we need is for you to have a meltdown.”

Sean opened his mouth to apologise, but Lan had already picked up his clothes and disappeared. Fine, bugger him too! After a moment or two Sean’s mouth curved into a smile. Now that sounded like a bloody good way of passing some time. Hopefully Lan would be amenable despite suffering occasional headaches from the concussion he'd received a few days earlier.

Sitting down on the bed, he tried to use the remote control to switch on the TV in the corner. He pressed buttons for ages but nothing happened.

“Fuck!” His shout echoed around the room.

Lan came rushing back in, wearing only a pair of jeans. “What?”

Gesturing with the remote Sean said, “Bloody thing doesn’t work.”

“Have you thought of changing the batteries? I thought something serious was wrong. Maybe that the scroats outside were going through our bin or something.”

Sean let himself fall back against the pillows on the rumpled bed. “From the bits of paper and rubbish I saw blowing up and down the road just now, I think they’ve already done that.”

“Fucking bastards.” Lan threw himself down beside Sean.

“Told you.” Sean had to try hard not to sound smug.

Lan rolled to face him and Sean’s cock began to take an interest.

Turning his head further, Sean looked his lover over. Naked from the waist up, with water still occasionally dripping from his hair onto his face and the bed, Lan was, as usual, a picture of debauchery. Sean's cock agreed, the thin towelling of his robe being nowhere near heavy enough to hide the evidence of his growing arousal.

Smiling, Lan reached out with one hand to the tie of the robe. “So we’re stuck inside for the foreseeable future? The TV doesn’t work and we can’t really go downstairs dressed like this because we don’t have curtains in the kitchen and the bastards outside would try to have cameras over the fence before we could do anything?”

Sean nodded. “Sounds about right.”

"We’re going to be stuck up here for a while then?” Lan had successfully defeated the knot holding Sean’s robe together and let one hand trail meaningfully across Sean’s stomach.

The quick intake of breath Lan’s actions caused made Sean’s reply come out as a whimper. “Yeah.”

“So we’re going to have to find a way to pass the time then?”

Sean just nodded, not trusting his voice. At this stage he would have agreed to anything Lan suggested.

Lan’s smile was wicked when he said, “Can you think of anything we could do?”

Pushed too far, Sean moved quickly, rolling Lan over onto his back and covering his body with his own. At the same time, Sean grabbed Lan’s hands and pinned them against the bed. “I can think of something,” he growled.

“Yeah?” It was Lan’s turn to sound breathless.

Sean dipped his hips, rubbing his cock against the matching hardness in Lan’s jeans. “I’m going to make you scream.”

“Oh good.”

“Yeah. We’ll just have to hope that the buggers outside don’t have a parabolic microphone and call the police when they hear you yelling.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once they'd showered and were dressed again, they went downstairs together. Sean glanced into the living room, checking that the curtains were still closed. He reached gingerly for the kitchen door only to stop when he heard Lan laughing softly behind him.

"What?"

"I thought we’d agreed we weren’t going to creep around our own house."

Realising Lan was right Sean squared his shoulders and pushed open the kitchen door deliberately ignoring the curtain free windows. "I'm going to put the kettle on. You want coffee or tea?"

Following him inside Lan said, "Tea. Do you know if we've got any bread left?"

"Think so. We might have to go shopping tomorrow though unless we're planning to live on takeaways."

"Great, I really fancy toast. You want some?"

"Yeah." Sean began to rummage around in one of the cupboards. "Have we got any jam?"

"Think so, it should be there. Try the second shelf."

They pottered around in the kitchen making breakfast in companionable silence. There was only one occasion when Sean thought he saw movement over the top of the garden fence. Fortunately the last owners had been keen on maintaining their privacy and had made sure the fence was six feet tall and solid.

He’d put the teapot on the table and was waiting for Lan to finish the toast when he remembered they ought to check the paper, see what other crap was being printed about them. Hoping the paperboy hadn’t been bothered too much by the reporters, he retrieved it from the letter box and carried it, still folded, into the kitchen. Lan was sitting at the table, a piece of toast heading for his mouth, when Sean dropped it down beside him with a thud.

The paper fell open to the front page but Sean ignored it, seating himself and reaching for the teapot. He poured his tea, added milk and sugar then with relish, took a bite of toast and washed it down with tea. He swallowed and with a trace of humour said, “They say anything good about us?”

Lan scanned the front page, “Mostly recycling the rubbish from yesterday. This is new though, they reckon you’re forty-four and I’m only twenty-six.”

“Bastards! I bet they’re trying to make it appear that I corrupted a poor young lad.” Sean smirked into his teacup. “If only they knew…”

Lan smiled back at him. “Well, having such a hot guv’nor made it really difficult for me to keep my hands to myself and you didn't exactly fight too hard.”

Sean was working on a suitably caustic comment when someone knocked loudly on the front door and they both jumped.

Lan looked over at him. “Whatcha think? Is it a reporter?”

Sean shrugged. “Probably not. They’ve been there for ages and not come to the door before now.”

“Okay, I’ll go and see who it is.” Lan got halfway out the kitchen door when he turned back.

“Hey, Sean.”

“What?”

“Does it look like we’ve been fucking this morning?” He grinned mischievously

Sean walked over to him and pulled his shirt out from the waistband of his jeans and undid the top two buttons. Reaching inside the fabric he ghosted his hand over one of Lan’s nipples, barely touching the fleshy mound. Lan was always very responsive so it didn’t surprise Sean that his eyes began to glaze over just from that light touch.

Leaving his shirt undone, Sean ran one hand through Lan’s hair, leaving him looking more than a little dishevelled. “It does now.”

“Good.” With that he walked towards the front door, arrogance showing with every step.

He was back in moments with Jack Cartwright. That was a surprise, Sean hadn't expected to see him so soon. From the change in Lan’s posture Sean could see he was uncomfortable having Jack in their home and wondered what had brought that on.

“Hey, guv, what're you doing here? Have you got some news about the O’Donnell cousin?"

"I needed to talk to you and couldn't get through on the phone. It's engaged all the time. And no, no more news on O’Donnell. We’ve not had a sniff of him at all and if it hadn’t been for your mate Doyle, we wouldn’t even have known how he got into the country, " Jack said apologetically.

"Yeah, well, we had to take the phone off the hook. It wouldn't bloody stop ringing. The press have somehow got hold of our phone number." Sean ignored the news about O’Donnell for now, at least the crowd of reporters would act as a deterrent and picked up another mug. "I've just made a pot of tea, you want some?”

"Please." The blond man sat at the kitchen table. "Your fan club has taken up residence I see."

“They showed up right after you phoned and have been there ever since.”

“Didn't take very-fucking-long for them to get here either,” Lan interjected.

“You knew Adams would use the information if he was arrested.” Jack’s voice was sympathetic, but if anything that seemed to put Lan’s back up even more.

Hoping to diffuse the tension a little Sean said, “We just hoped we’d have a bit more time before the shit hit the fan.”

Ignoring Lan’s outburst Jack glanced at the paper and pointed at the front page. “Anything new?”

“Don’t know, haven’t looked at it yet.” Sean leaned over, resting one hand on the table as he turned a couple of pages. “Jesus, they’ve even dug up our passing out pictures. Look at that, Lan.”

Lan came round the table to stand at Sean’s side, looking at the pictures without comment. Finally he asked, “Why are you here, Jack?”

Jack's shoulders slumped.“I’ve been told to inform you that once Lan’s been signed off by the doctor, for his concussion, you’re both on extended gardening leave. You’ll get your full pay but you’re not to come anywhere near the office or your teams. All your ongoing cases are being re-assigned with immediate effect.”

Sean nodded; he'd expected something like that.

"They’re trying to push us into resigning, aren’t they?" Lan asked quietly but with venom.

Jack nodded. “Yeah, they are. But, like I said before, I don’t think you should.”

“Why?” Sean was curious to know why Jack wasn't toeing the party line.

“Because I’ve done some digging into other cases like yours. And if you don’t resign, they’ll have to make a deal. They don’t want you taking them to an industrial tribunal. In the past they’ve offered early retirement with a full pension and a lump sum.”

Lan looked resigned. "No way we can stay in the job is there?"

Jack shook his head. "I shouldn’t have to tell you the answer to that one, Lando. It’d be too easy for either of you to get hurt, possibly permanently. There are enough homophobic bastards in the force and it would be easy to make it look like an accident. All it would take was a nutter with a shotgun, your backup being in the wrong place or being a bit late getting to you and you’d be in a whole heap of shit."

Trying for a positive outlook, Sean said, “So, on the bright side, can we go on holiday?”

Jack nodded. “Yeah, as long as you don’t leave the country. I’m really sorry but I need to take your passports too.”

“Fucking bastards! We’re not guilty of anything,” Lan spat, his temper finally boiling over.

“It's okay, Lan. We’ll get this sorted out quickly. Maybe we can go back to Mykonos in a couple of weeks? The weather should still be good,” Sean said, soothing his lover by stroking his back.

“Right.” Lan was usually fairly easy going and Sean promised himself that he would get to the bottom of his sudden show of attitude.

Trying to calm the situation Sean asked, “Who’s finishing up on the Adams case?”

“Me,” Jack answered as he stood and started for the door.

Sean said, “Just make it stick, Jack. I’d hate for us have sacrificed our careers for nothing.”

“It’s okay, you can rest assured I’ll crucify the bastards. George Carter won’t be able find a job as a parking attendant once I’m finished with him. Oh, and by the way, the lads wanted me to give you their regards. They all think you’ve both been treated like shit.”

“They do?” Sean said.

“'Course they do.”Jack smiled at him. “You really are a Muppet sometimes, Bean. You don’t honestly think they hadn’t guessed there was something more between you two? Why on earth do you think they were always careful to ring before they arrived to pick you up? That’s why I know the leak came from Adams and not the Squad, The guys like you both and don’t give a shit about your preferences. They’ve kept quiet about it for months, there’s no chance they're going to start running off at the mouth now.”

“They knew?” They both followed Jack down the hall towards the front door.

“Guessed is probably more accurate. Don’t forget, Sean, most of them were there when you two had your run in with Brian O’Donnell.”

“Shit!” Sean let his breath whoosh out making him sound a bit like a kettle about to boil.

“Oh, and I nearly forgot, if the rat pack outside make trouble, give me a call. I’ll get the uniforms round to nick them so fast their feet won’t touch the ground between here and the station.”

“That’s good to know.” Determined not to appear embarrassed by his new found notoriety, Sean stood in clear view as Jack opened the door to leave. He was instantly assaulted by the bright glare of numerous flash guns and the whine of camera motor drives.

In clear view of the assembled press, Jack turned and shook first Sean’s hand and then Lan’s. It was symbolic and Sean knew it.

After Jack had gone Sean closed the front door and led Lan into the darkened living room. He thought about opening the curtains but decided against it. The last thing they needed were faces pressed up against the glass when they had something serious to talk about. He had to get to the bottom of Lan’s unease around Jack because being 'piggy in the middle' was bloody uncomfortable. 

Sean said, “So what was that all about? Jack was just doing his job; there was no need to lash out at him like that.”

“I didn’t.” Lan shuffled his feet and looked at the floor before meeting Sean's gaze.

“Yeah, you did. You’re normally really easy going and I don’t remember you being like that with him when we were working together.”

Sean could see Lan wrestling with his feelings and he finally said, “I’m not sure I trust him.”

“What?” Sean was incredulous. “He stood in clear view out there and shook our hands. That’s risky for him. You also trusted him enough to make yourself a target on that bloody boat!”

Lan sat down abruptly, the sofa creaking with the sudden weight. “It’s not that. I appreciate what he did out there; it’s why he did it that bothers me.”

Sean ran a hand through his hair, he wasn’t afraid to admit he was completely lost. “I think you’re going to have to explain this to me, Lan.”

Watching Lan bite his lip, Sean wondered if he would reveal what was on his mind.

“I’m nervous."

“About what? We’ll be able to find other jobs, I’m sure of it.”

“Not about the jobs. I know we'll be able to find something easily. The thing is, Sean, you’re bi – you’ve been with women and men before. I’m not. I’ve always preferred men so this time I think my instincts are a bit keener than yours.”

“Okay...” Sean waited for his partner to continue.

“You see, I think Jack isn’t as straight as he would have us believe.”

Gobsmacked, Sean stuttered, “But he’s married. He has a wife and two kids.”

“I know but that doesn’t really mean anything. He could have buried his real self because he thought it would help him get on in the force." Lan looked down at his clasped hands before continuing. "I think he fancies you.”

“You’ve got to be kidding. There’s no way.”

“I can see it in the way he looks at you." Lan looked up at him. "I noticed it the first time when he found out for sure that we're together. This morning just confirmed it. It was as though he was too unsure to do or say anything before because he would have been in a world of trouble if he was wrong. But now that he knows for sure, he's looking at you in a different light."

"What about you? If he fancies blokes you're much better looking than me," Sean protested.

"That's not the point. You're about the same age and have a lot more in common. Maybe he's never been involved with a man before and thinks that sex with someone like you makes him less queer somehow."

“But I’m with you,” Sean said in disbelief as he sat down next to Lan. "Why would I even look at him?"

Lan reached out with one hand and stroked Sean’s cheek, “Perhaps he thinks you’ll get tired of me now that we're out in the open and then he's in with a chance.”

“But we’ve been together for more than two years…”

“I know that but Jack doesn’t. No one apart from my mum knows the full story.”

“You think I should tell him?”

“No. Not yet. Wait and see what happens and if he says anything.”

Aware of the importance of his words, Sean said, “I love you, Lan. I'd never even look at anyone else.”

“You’ve given up everything for us, Sean, it goes without saying.”

Sean pulled Lan closer and rested his head on the younger man’s shoulder. “No, I should say it all the time, make sure you don’t forget.”

Lan smiled, and for the first time since they'd come downstairs it was a genuine smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We finally get to Halloween - will anything happen? Will the ghost return to try to claim his revenge again? Will Bodie and Doyle save the day?
> 
> The only way to find out is to read the chapter!

**October 31st 1983**

Lan shifted in his seat, his attention not really on the Sylvester Stallone video that Doyle had started once they’d finished their take-away food. Instantly the other three men in the room stopped their thinly veiled pretence of watching the film and looked over at him.

“Everything okay, Lan?” Sean asked, smiling reassuringly at him.

Feeling more than a bit tetchy, with the boredom of the previous days resting heavily on him, Lan snapped, “Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be with the three of you watching me like hawks. What are you expecting to happen? I hardly think he’s just going to suddenly appear in the middle of your living room and try to kill me again.”

Bodie gave one of this superior smiles, “That’s why we’re all sitting here, Lan. Because we don’t know what that bastard is going to try next.”

Doyle chimed in, “Yeah, it looks like he tried getting someone else to hurt you when you were captured by Brian O’Donnell. Then, he lured you to the station, by making you think Sean was in trouble, and tried to kill you there. You weren’t breathing when we showed up so he would have been successful without our interference. On that basis, he’s very likely to have a go at you again this year, and the odds are he will try to use O’Donnell’s cousin to do it. We’re just here to help even the odds.”

Realising they were right and that they were only making a fuss because they were worried, and maybe a bit scared of the unknown quantity of this adversary, Lan held up his hands in apology. “Yeah you’re right. I’m sorry for sounding like a wanker. I’m just fed up with sitting around and doing nothing for so long.”

Sean came over and perched on the arm of the chair, putting his hand on Lan’s shoulder.”Hey don’t worry. The four of us are all here waiting for something, we’ve no idea what, to happen and it’s getting to all of us.”

Lan nodded, the last week had been awful. Being stuck in the house for several days while the press camped outside had started to make him feel stir crazy. And now the thought that he was again being stalked by a ghost bent on revenge from the grave, scared the shit out of him. More, he realised, because Sean and the others could be hurt by being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He’d also been experiencing the constant feeling that someone was watching him. At first he’d thought it was something to do with the reporters camping outside their house. But the feeling had persisted, even when he was in the downstairs toilet, which didn’t have a window. It was no wonder he was feeling stressed. But that was no excuse for behaving like a prat. He shouldn’t take out his stress on Sean or his friends.

Bodie leaned forward in his chair and pushed the stop button on the video player. “I don’t think any of us are really interested in this just now. We can start it again later if we want to see what happens to him. It’s a bunch of crap anyway, when I was in the SAS we used to go on exercises with guys like that and our men would regularly wipe the floor with them.” 

“Okay, so was that when you saw the weird shit you mentioned? When you were in the army?” Lan remembered.

“Not in the army, no. It was when I was in South Africa.” 

“So what were you doing there?”

Bodie gave one of his trademark grins which Lan had long since figured out meant he wasn’t going to reveal the full story. 

“I was working there.”

“As?” Lan grinned, letting Bodie know he wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easily.

“A consultant.”

So Bodie had been a mercenary... Interesting... “So the weird shit? What did you see or find out?”

Bodie waited a minute and seemed to take a moment to gather his thoughts. “I saw people who it was claimed were possessed by evil spirits. They have women there, they call them sangomas who treat them. They’re traditional healers and their job is to protect the people from attack by witches or thakathi. Apparently the sangomas learn their skills by consulting with their ancestors, they use drumming and dancing to get themselves into a sort of trance, which is when communication takes place. They hold positions of great respect in their villages. They are also supposed to be able to predict the future using animal bones.

“Thakathi are the ones you should stay away from. They are supposed to practice witchcraft and use poisons to make people sick or even die. The inyanga is almost always male, they’re sometimes referred to as witch doctors but that’s a mistake because, he uses the medicines he makes to counteract the damage done by the thakathi. So the name really should be translated as doctor against witches.”

As fascinating as Bodie’s story was, Lan still couldn’t settle. He stood, almost knocking Sean off the arm of the chair and began pacing up and down the modestly-sized living room. He was aware of the concerned looks he was getting from Sean but he couldn’t keep still. The feeling of being watched was still there and getting worse. It felt like something was burning a hole in the back of his head. Rubbing one hand over his hair he continued to pace.

He heard Sean ask, “So do the people you work with know about you and Bodie?” but he tuned out the reply. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about the future and what he and Sean could do once they’d reached an agreement with the Met, but he had the strongest feeling that their future wasn’t set in London. He had the impression that they needed to move west. He couldn’t have explained why, it was just there and had as strong a hold over him as the sensation of being watched.

Lost in his thoughts he hadn’t realised that the others had stopped trying to make conversation and were all sitting, in varying degrees of comfort, watching him. Sean was obviously the most tense as he was sitting on the edge of his seat, almost as though he was convinced he would need to move very quickly in the next two seconds.

Coming to a stop in the middle of the room Lan let out a huff of annoyance, “Bugger it! I think we should to go out and do something. It’s half past eight and if we have to sit around here staring at each other for the next three and a half hours we’re going to go crazy.”

Doyle and Bodie looked at each other and shrugged and then they both looked at Sean who lifted his hands in what looked like a ‘what the fuck do I know’ gesture.

Finally Doyle spoke, “Okay. I know a new place, it’s not been open long and they are having a bit of a celebration for Halloween tonight.”

Bodie looked over at Doyle. “You talking about the Twilight Room?”

“Yeah.”

Sean stood. “What’s it like? You think we’ll get problems from the press or anyone there?”

“I’ve been past it a couple of times and it looks okay. The good thing is that for the party they’ve said that they want everyone to wear masks. No fancy dress just masks – which they will supply if you don’t have one of your own. I figure no one will know who you are then.”

Sean looked over at his partner.“What do you think, Lan?”

“I think I’m going to go completely spare if I don’t get outside soon. Maybe being around other people might put him off. After all, each of the last two times, there’s only been me on my own or me and Sean.”

He found himself shifting from one foot to the other, waiting for the others to make up their minds was killing him and when, finally, Sean nodded his agreement of the visit to the club, Lan had his coat on long before anyone else and was standing by the front door, still fidgeting.

He couldn’t have explained the huge feeling of relief when the four of them were finally walking down the road towards the High Street where the club stood. They had paired up automatically to walk two abreast but not into couples. Instead Bodie was walking beside Lan and Ray Doyle was beside Sean.

As they turned into the High Street, Bodie said, “So have you had any luck finding out more about who the ghost might be and his connection to your family?”

Lan shook his head. “No, not a fucking thing. Just what we found out from the family bible; that I have an ancestor called Thomas Hobbes who was born in Somerset in 1670 and died in Boston. I’ve looked at the family tree and I know that he had a son also called Thomas who was born in 1689 in Salem, Massachusetts. From that I can work out that he left England and arrived in America sometime between 1670 and 1689 before his son was born. I looked up the place in the Encyclopedia and have discovered that it was the same place where the Salem Witch Trials took place between 1692 and 1693. At the same time here in England, the king, Charles the Second died and there was a rebellion in the west of England against his successor James the Second and then in 1689 William and Mary took the throne in a bloodless revolution. So his clothes fit the period but I have no idea how he and Thomas Hobbes are connected.”

“You got any family in the West Country? You know, Wiltshire or Somerset, places like that?”

“Not that I know of. The only link is Thomas himself. My mother says that most of the Blooms have always lived in London.”

Bodie looked at him thoughtfully. “Makes you believe there is something in all this. The ghost knew more about your family than you did yourself.”

“Bugger off! It’s playing on my mind enough as it is.”

“You thought about trying to get a priest to exorcise him or something?”

“Yeah, I’ve thought about it but because I have no idea who the bloody hell he is, I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Oh, yeah, hadn’t thought of that.”

They arrived at their destination then so there was no more chance to talk to Bodie while they got themselves inside. Lan had to smile when both Bodie and Doyle refused to give up their jackets. Wearing a shoulder holster could be a real pain but he supposed if it was something you did all the time you got used to it. On the few occasions he’d had to carry a weapon it had only been for a job. Fortunately, the place appeared to have a decent air-conditioning system so it didn’t look as though they were going to overheat. They collected plain black masks from the cloakroom. They were simple moulded plastic and were kept in place by a thin piece of elastic that fitted around the back of their heads.

The arrival for four blokes together meant that they soon became the focus of attention of all the unattached women in the place. While Lan really didn’t care for women, he soon realised that he was the only gay one of the four of them. He’d known about Sean but hadn’t given much thought to Bodie or Doyle’s preferences but it was now apparent that they were bi and soon there was a group of six females, all wearing the same plain, white masks, sitting around the table. He might not want to end up with any of them but despite that, Lan knew how to flirt with the best of them, so the next couple of hours passed smoothly, apart from the filthy looks being thrown their way by some of the unattached men who were clearly jealous of their good fortune. Lan had to try hard not to laugh, if only they knew that he and his friends were no threat to the possibility of any of them getting lucky tonight…

Lan had been enjoying himself and had almost forgotten the significance of the date until a bit after eleven when the feeling that someone or something was watching him came back. Within the space of fifteen minutes it had grown in intensity until he was struggling to hide his nervousness. He hadn’t been aware how much his increasing agitation was visible until Bodie yelled over the noise of the music, “Hey, Lan. Want to give me some help to get more drinks in?”

When he looked up to respond he saw Sean’s worried expression and it only confirmed that he wasn’t as good at hiding his feelings as he had thought.

Sean stood with them. “I’ll give you a hand.” He turned to the women sitting around the table, interrupting their chatter. “What can we get for you, ladies?”

Lan hoped that Sean was listening to the drinks orders because he knew he was becoming too keyed up to concentrate on what anyone was saying.

He did hear Bodie shout at Doyle, “Hey, are you going to be okay if we leave you on your own, Ray?”

Doyle laughed and put his arms around the girls sitting on either side of him. He favoured Bodie with what Lan would describe as a shit-eating grin. “I think I’ll manage.”

They were walking over to the bar when Lan said to Bodie, “You feel okay leaving him there like that?”

Bodie shrugged. “It’s not a problem. After all I know it’s me he’s going home with later. He might fancy the girls as well as the blokes but we know where we stand with each other.” Bodie’s expression suddenly became serious, “We’ve been through too much together. Ray’s covered my back more times than I can count and that means much more than a quick grope with someone in a bar.”

Sean interrupted when Bodie turned to order the drinks. “Don’t try to sidetrack us, Lan. You’re getting fidgety and I want to know if something’s happening.”

“Nothing that I can tell you about. It feels like we are being watched, but with the daggers we’ve been getting from all the single blokes here tonight, I’m not surprised. So it could be nothing.”

“What about Patrick O’Donnell? Have you seen anything of him?”

“Come off it, Sean, the picture Ray showed us from the CCTV camera hardly made it easy to see him clearly. If he had followed us here, he’d be wearing a mask too. He could be standing right next to us here and we’d never recognise him.”

He had to laugh when Sean shot a suspicious look at the man standing next to them at the bar, before looking sheepish.

Just then the drinks started arriving on the bar in front of Bodie. Digging his hand in his pocket, Lan pulled out a ten pound note and passed it over, yelling, “Here I’ll get this round.”

Holding three glasses between his two hands, Lan walked back to the table and handed them out. He was half way back to the bar to collect the next batch when everything changed. Music and voices that had been continuing at a normal level for a crowded club, suddenly became too loud for him to bear. It felt as though someone was sticking knives in his ears. Clapping both hands over the sides of his head to try to cut out some of the sound, he doubled over, desperately trying to deal with the pain.

At the same time the feeling of unease that had been stalking him for the last hour or so, increased in severity until he could feel himself shaking with the force of it. The tremors running through him increased until he could barely stand. 

Sean was the closest one to him but he had his back turned, facing the bar.

The feelings of danger and helplessness reminded Lan too much of the events of the previous year so he flailed wildly with his hand, fortunately connecting with Sean’s back. At the same time he pulled off his mask. 

Sean turned and recognised that there was a problem. Pulling off his own mask, he grabbed Lan, supporting him with an arm around his waist. He yelled in his ear, “What’s the matter?”

Sean shouting in his ear nearly sent him down to his knees and he knew he’d cried out in pain. But the words wouldn’t come and if anything the shudders were getting worse. 

Finally, using a huge amount of willpower, he pulled Sean’s head down until his ear was close to his mouth. Praying Sean would hear him he whispered, “We need to get everyone out. Something’s going to happen and unless we do something, everyone here is going to die.”

From where he was sitting, sandwiched between two of the girls, Doyle, realised that something was up with Lando. Sean had his arm around him and was talking urgently into his ear. Slipping out of the grasp of Polly and Jane – at least he thought that was their names - he started over to the two men, Taking Bodie’s arm as he went and pulling him along with him.

“What?” Bodie looked at him in surprise, two glasses still in his hands.

He used his head to point towards Sean and Lan. “Lan, something’s wrong.”

“Shit!” Bodie cursed, slamming the glasses down on a nearby table.

Just as they reached them, Lan slumped against Sean. Doyle saw that it was only Sean’s arm, curled protectively around Lan’s waist that was keeping the younger man upright. Pulling Bodie nearer, Doyle huddled closer to the two of them, subtly helping Sean to support Lan’s almost dead weight. He hoped it looked like they were all helping a mate who’d had too much to drink.

Grasping his arm in a wordless thank you, Sean pulled him closer and shouted in his ear. “We’ve got to clear everyone out of the building. Lan says something is going to happen. Unless we get everyone out of the building, people are going to die.”

“Shit! Is he sure? As CI5 we’ve got the authority to close the place down but there’ll be hell to pay if we screw up.”

“If Lan says something bad is coming, then I believe him. He’s never been wrong before.”

Doyle edged closer and tried to talk to Lan without shouting, a near impossibility with the volume of the music in the club. “Lan, you got any idea what’s going to happen?”

Lan looked pale and his pupils were huge. He had his arms wrapped around himself. “I see flames and maybe an explosion. It could be a bomb.” Drained, he closed his eyes and rested his head against Sean’s shoulder.

Knowing that neither of them were in a fit state to make a decision; Lan because of the effect the vision was having on him and Sean because he was worried sick about his lover, Doyle turned to his partner. “Whatcha think?”

Bodie shed his mask before responding, “I don’t think we can afford to take the risk. The worst that can happen is we’ll look like a couple of prats. If we don’t do anything and someone gets hurt or dies, and we could have prevented it, we’ll never forgive ourselves.”

“Cowley will rip us new ones if we get this wrong.”

“Look, sunshine, I know you’ve always been sceptical about Lan’s abilities, and what’s happened to him, but you saw him this time last year. If we hadn’t got to him in time he would have died. You have to believe that there is something in his story. He had no reason to make anything like that up. In fact it would have been easier to tell us that he was attacked by a real person.”

What his partner said made a lot of sense and was enough to persuade Doyle they should start getting people out. Pulling off his mask with a wry grin he said, “Okay. I’m in. If it all goes pear-shaped and Cowley fires us, maybe, once Sean and Lan are out of the force, we can all go into business together.”

“Okay, how do you think we should do this?” Bodie said.

Doyle looked around, trying to see if there was an office where they might find a manager. “I can’t see an office or anything like that, let’s go and have a word with one of the people behind the bar.” He turned to Sean, “While we’re trying to find the manager to get him to clear the place, why don’t you get Lan outside?”

Sean nodded and, holding Lan around the waist, began to head for the exit. Several people watched them curiously but Doyle hoped most of them thought Lan was drunk.

When they got the bar the staff were busy serving and, after they had been ignored for several minutes Doyle gave up being patient and reached over the bar, grabbing the first server he saw. “I need to speak to the manager, now,” he said urgently waving his ID card under the man’s nose.

The guy pulled away angrily. “He’s not here.”

Bodie joined in, “So who’s in charge tonight?”

They’d obviously picked the wrong person to talk to because he came back with, “What’s it about?”

“We haven’t got time for this shit,” Bodie swore.

Before Bodie could show his displeasure more forcefully, Doyle pulled the man aside. “Listen, you saw the ID. We’re CI5 and if we want to see the manager; that’s all you need to know!”

“Okay. Sorry,” he said grudgingly, “The manager’s not working tonight.”

“For the last bloody time, who’s in charge then?” Bodie snapped back.

“The assistant manager.”

“Where is he?” Doyle continued calmly, slipping effortlessly into the good cop, bad cop routine they used so often.

The barman shrugged and pointed over to the opposite side of the room. “In the office. It’s through the door, up the stairs and the first door on the right.”

Moving swiftly, they headed across the dance floor. It was difficult to get through the crowd of people gyrating in time with the music, but they managed it with only a few bruised egos left in their wake. Bodie led the way up the stairs and Doyle followed, absently admiring his lover’s arse. As soon as Halloween was over, he was going to take Bodie to bed and stay there for a couple of days, he promised himself.

They didn’t bother to knock, but at least they didn’t kick the door down when they went in. The man behind the desk jumped at their abrupt entry. He stood and pasting a fake smile on, walked over towards them, “Sorry guys, the office is off limits to guests.”

Regretting that he hadn’t thought through what he was going to say and frantically trying to come up with something that would convince this bloke to co-operate, Doyle asked, “What’s your name?” He didn’t break stride and continued to walk towards the man.

“Name? I’m Tony Hughes, the assistant manager here at Twilight. Who the hell wants to know?”

Pulling his ID out of his pocket once more, Doyle said, “I’m Doyle and he’s Bodie. We’ve had a tip off that there’s a bomb in the vicinity. We need to clear the club at once.”

“What? Fucking IRA is it? Bastards. At least they usually give us plenty of time to get people clear.”

Doyle breathed a sigh of relief. In the heat of the moment, his worry about Lan had stopped him from remembering that every Londoner would be accustomed to living with the threat of terrorist bombs. On the other hand, the IRA usually gave some warning time, they were going to have to get this guy moving if they were going to evacuate the place before the midnight deadline.

Tony continued, “I’ll just phone my boss and let him decide how to play this.”

“Decide?” Doyle bellowed, finally losing his temper. “There is no time to decide. If you don’t start moving people out, I’m going to go and set off the fire alarm. That’ll empty the place quickly. You’d just better hope no one gets hurt in the panic that’s bound to follow.”

Holding his hands up in defeat, Tony nodded. “Okay. I’ll come downstairs with you now and start the evacuation. We’ve trained the staff to get people out quickly. They can help while I call this in.”

Doyle glanced at his watch as they hurried back down the stairs. Shit! It was already two minutes to midnight. They needed to hurry.

The noise that hit them as they opened the door to the main dance floor was deafening and Doyle had serious doubts they were going to be able to get everyone out in time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sean half carried Lan outside. The cold air hit them with the force of a brick and Lan’s shaking got worse until his teeth were chattering so hard he could barely speak. Wrapping his arms around his partner, Sean tried to share his own body heat. When Lan crumpled to the ground, Sean sank down with him, trying to maintain as much contact between them as possible. He ignored the insults thrown at them from a passing car. Right now they could call him anything they bloody well liked, Lan was his priority.

Sean checked his watch, almost midnight and no sign of anyone leaving the building. They were cutting it fine. Worrying about the people still inside, he was tempted to go back and help the CI5 men to clear the place but equally, he couldn’t leave Lan alone.

Perhaps it was helped by being out of the noise but soon Lan’s shakes began to die away and he started looking around with more awareness. 

“You feeling better?” Sean asked.

He nodded, “Yeah, I think so.” But gratifyingly for Sean he didn’t pull away.

A couple of minutes had passed when Lan said, “Let me up, Sean. The ground’s bloody cold.”

Releasing his hold on the younger man, Sean sprang to his feet, pulling Lan up with him.

They both jumped when an alarm began to sound inside the club. Almost immediately, there was the sound of an explosion and simultaneously, the main doors of the club flew open and screaming people began to pour out in a massive tide of humanity.

“That sounded like an explosion, I hope they get everyone out in time.” Sean shouted to Lan. He turned to watch the exodus and while his back was turned, Lan suddenly took off at a run, heading straight back towards the building.

“You stupid bugger, come back!” Sean yelled, before turning and running after him.

The mass of people hadn't lessened at all so Lan was forced to wait his chance to head back through the doorway giving Sean a chance to catch up with him. Grabbing Lan by the arm, Sean swore, “What the fuck do you think you're doing? You're the one who said how dangerous it was in there!”

Lan struggled against him, trying to pull away. “You don't understand. Ray's in trouble.”

“Trouble?”

“Yes, he's trapped.”

It might have been selfish but Sean heard himself responding, “He'll be fine. Bodie's with him.”

“No, he won't. They need our help.”

At that moment the flow of people leaving the club slowed to a trickle and before Sean could prepare himself, Lan wrenched his arm free and dived through the doorway where a worrying orange glow was beginning to build..

“Bollocks!” With a yell of frustration, Sean followed him back inside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bodie looked around as Tony, spoke urgently to the guy behind the bar. Whatever was being discussed, there looked to be some harsh words involved. Shaking his head in exasperation, Bodie tapped Ray on the shoulder. “I'm going to set off the fire alarm. Those idiots are going to be debating this all night.”

Ray delayed for barely a second, watching Tony and the barman before nodding. “Okay. Go for it.”

Pushing his way through the mass of people still crowded on the dance floor, Bodie searched desperately for a fire alarm he could use. He couldn't see one anywhere so, in desperation, he reached across people seated at the nearest table and grabbed the lighter lying there. “Can I borrow this for a minute?” Without waiting for an answer he pushed his way into the corridor that led to the bathrooms, where the ceiling was lower. 

Desperately he searched through his pockets, finding nothing apart from his ID card and a couple of ten pound notes. Bugger it, this was turning into a very expensive evening out.

He flicked the lighter and held the flame next to one of the ten pound notes. It began to smoulder immediately so he set about waving the smoking money under the sensor for the fire alarm. Almost at once, a siren began to sound and then water began to pour from the vents in the ceiling. In seconds he was soaked.

Hearing screams of panic from the customers, he headed back to the main area. He was looking around, searching for Ray, just as an explosion ripped through the wall behind the bar.

Instinct made him hit the ground and cover his head with his arms.

His ears were still ringing when he managed to raise his head and look around frantically for his partner. Ray had been close to the bar when the explosion happened. Through the wrecked wall he could see the remains of a kitchen area. Flames were leaping into the air from there, despite the deluge of water pouring from the ceiling.

The club was now empty, for which he was thankful. He could concentrate on finding Ray. He thought it odd that the flames weren’t being affected by the water from the sprinklers but he didn’t care, it gave him light to search by.

His eyes scanned the wreckage and his heart leapt into his mouth when he saw a body lying half buried under some debris. He scrambled over and saw almost immediately that it wasn't Ray. When he checked though the man was dead.

There was a movement away to his left, so he hurried in that direction. When he reached the spot, a familiar voice said, “You took your fucking time. Get me out of this.”

Bodie instantly dropped to his knees. “Are you hurt?”

Stupid question really, Ray was trapped, face down under a part of the bar and there was a large industrial fridge balanced on top of it. Of course he must be hurt. Shit!

“No. I was lucky, the bar took the weight of the fridge when it landed, I'm just stuck. My foot's caught up in something.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Bodie said, “Okay. If I try to move the fridge off can you pull yourself free?”

“I don't know, I'll give it a try.”

Squatting down with his shoulder under one corner of the fridge, Bodie heaved. The massive appliance moved but not enough. A sense of extreme urgency made Bodie try again, straining against the weight with all his might. But it still wouldn't move far enough.

“Is there anyway you can do to help, maybe by pushing up a bit at the same time?”

Doyle shook his head, the sum total of the movement he had, “No, I can't lift myself up enough to get any force.”

Bodie looked over towards the wrecked kitchen, trying to gauge the state of the fire. The water was lessening and worryingly, there still seemed to be a core of the fire which wasn't showing any signs of going out.

He was considering waiting for the fire brigade to arrive to that they could free Ray as he didn't appear to be in any immediate danger, when Sean and Lan appeared at his side.

“What are you doing here? Get back outside you silly buggers.”

Sean brushed him off. “Lan said that Ray was in trouble, that we needed to come back.”

Lan had come to his side and knelt down beside Ray, talking to him quietly.

“Okay, now you're here you can make yourselves useful and help me get this fridge off him.”

With Sean's help, he moved the fridge off easily and then started to inspect the debris from the bar to try to find out how Ray was trapped. From the corner of his eye, he saw a sudden jump in the intensity of the flames still flickering in the kitchen area. Not understanding why, he was suddenly convinced that they had to get Ray out quickly. Gesturing to Sean he began pulling urgently at large pieces of timber.

Lan meanwhile had stood and was looking at the kitchen area. With a muttered curse he began pulling at the wreckage with them, throwing pieces of wood aside with almost super human energy. “Hurry!”

“What's happening?” Sean shouted over the noise of the flames and the sounds as pieces of wood hit the floor.

“It's him!” Lan pointed towards the kitchen and Bodie's gaze followed the direction of his arm. There, in the centre of the fire, stood a figure covered in flames. His first thought was that some poor bastard had been trapped by the fire but, as he watched, the figure grew stronger, rather than collapsing. It was then that he fully appreciated the power of the entity pursuing Lan.

Working faster with Sean's help, Bodie cleared the last of the debris, moving the beam which had been wedged in place, trapping Ray's foot. Gratefully, he realised it was a good thing Ray was wearing heavy boots, he would at least have broken his ankle otherwise. Pulling Ray upright, he got his shoulder under one arm while Sean took the other and between them began to drag him out.

“Come on, Lan. He's free, we need to get out.” Bodie yelled above the chaos.

“No. You get out first. He's after me so if I can keep his attention until you're all clear, that will help.”

It was as though hearing Lan's voice acted as a spur because the flaming figure began to lurch in their direction.

Before Bodie could protest, Ray pushed Sean away. “It's okay, the feeling is coming back to my foot now. I'll be fine with Bodie's help. Get Lan out.”

Nodding Sean, let go, causing Ray to sag alarmingly to one side. That told Bodie there was more wrong than his lover was letting on. Getting Ray out was his priority, but, all the same, he felt a trace of guilt at leaving Sean and Lan to cope for themselves.

Putting those thoughts aside, he promised himself that once Ray was safe he would come back for the others.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sean headed over to Lan and grabbed his hand. “Come on. They're on their way out.” He coughed, the smoke in the club was growing thicker and it was becoming difficult to see.

Holding on tight to Lan, Sean began heading in the direction he thought the exit lay. They stumbled increasingly over debris which seemed to be blocking their way. Detouring around the worst of it was beginning to make Sean lose his sense of direction and he now wasn't sure if they'd been turned around. The smoke was so dense he could barely see Lan, let alone the exit.

Suddenly Lan's hand tightened in his and Sean saw a orange glow seemingly coming towards them.

“Come on. We need to go this way.” Lan shouted before being reduced to a fit of coughing which made him double over.

Holding him around the waist, Sean pulled him close. “Keep your mouth shut and concentrate on breathing shallowly.

Moving as quickly as they could they headed in the opposite direction. The water from the sprinklers had stopped. As the heat in the building grew the feeling of pressure around his throat increased. Sean knew they had to get out soon or they would suffocate. He was gasping for breath when he stumbled against the fridge he and Bodie had shifted earlier but it helped him get his bearings. Dragging Lan with him, he knew they were heading towards the door when, through the billows of smoke, he caught a glimpse of blue flashing lights.

Staggering like a drunk, as the lack of oxygen began to take its toll, Sean vowed that his lover wasn't going to die, not this year and not this close to safety. As Lan's weight began to tug at him more heavily, Sean realised he was being affected more severely. 

The orange glow behind them increased even as the light from the doorway grew stronger. They were maybe ten feet from the door when there was a roar from behind them and a fireball exploded, missing them by a foot. Confused, Sean ducked instinctively and the next fireball was somehow deflected and missed them by inches.

With Lan an inert mass at his side, Sean made a last despairing effort and leapt forward, aiming for the doorway.

As they flew out of the club door and across the pavement, Sean glimpsed uniformed legs carrying hoses, rushing towards him. They hit the ground in a tangle of arms and legs with Sean underneath. Lan’s limp weight landed on him forcing his head against the pavement with a sickening crack.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He'd just made it through the doorway when a whole slew of emergency vehicles arrived on the scene. Handing Ray over to the paramedic who quickly appeared beside him, Bodie grabbed one of the firemen. “There are two men still in there and two bodies.”

The fireman nodded and shouted over to his colleagues. “We've got two alive inside at least and some possible fatalities.”

Making a thumbs up sign, two of them shrugged into breathing equipment and went in through the entrance, where flames were now licking at the ceiling.

Knowing there was no way he could get inside to help. He looked around to see where Ray had got to, intending to join him. Turning his head he caught a glimpse of a familiar face. It took a moment for him to work out where he had seen the man before but then it hit him! Patrick-bloody-O'Donnell!

Breaking into a sprint, he rushed after the man who was hurriedly leaving the scene. He must have spotted Bodie coming after him because he suddenly broke into a run.

Putting his head down, Bodie raced in pursuit. He’d bet good money the bastard had something to do with the explosion. And the thought that he had put Ray's life in danger was enough to spur Bodie on so that in no time, he'd made up the ground separating them. Throwing himself forward, he grabbed O'Donnell around the knees and pulled him to the ground. He didn't put up any sort of fight when Bodie turned him over onto his back and straddled him. Part of Bodie hoped he'd resist so that he could beat the crap out of him but instead O'Donnell just lay there.

Climbing to his feet, Bodie dragged O'Donnell up by his collar, thankful that he and Ray had managed to find a picture of the man when they were searching the immigration records. The fucker would have got clean away otherwise.

Shoving him in front, Bodie frogmarched him back to the scene. When he got there he grabbed the nearest copper and he handed a still dazed O'Donnell over to him. Showing his ID, he said, “His name is Patrick O’Donnell and he's under arrest. He's a suspect in the killing of Detective Sergeant Rob Newman from the Drugs Squad.”

Once he'd dealt with that, his attention now was on making sure Sean and Lan had got clear. A group of fireman and paramedics were gathered over by one of the ambulances. and when he got there, he could see Ray sitting on the step at the back of the vehicle. He went over there, flashing his ID at an overeager copper who tried to step into his path.

He put his hand on Ray's shoulder and squeezed, reassuring himself that his partner was okay. “Did everyone get out?”

“I think so, apart from Tony and the barman. I saw them take the brunt of the explosion.”

Bodie nodded, gesturing with his head towards the interior of the ambulance. “What's going on?”

“Sean knocked himself out on the way out and he's not come round yet. Lan had stopped breathing but they've got him started again and he's breathing on his own now. They're worried about his oxygen levels because he's still a bit out of it.”

“What about you?”

“Just a sprained ankle. They want to X-ray it but I think I was lucky because my boot took the worst of the impact.”

He crouched down beside Ray, trying to keep his voice low. “You'll never guess who I caught up with just now?”

“Who?”

“Patrick O'Donnell.”

“What? What was he doing here? You think he followed us and had something to do with the explosion?”

Bodie shrugged, “I don't know. What I do know though is that there was more going on in there than the explosion.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Lan stopped breathing again for one- “

“Yeah, but that could have been down to the fire.”

Bodie shook his head. “I don't think so.”

“Why?”

“The flaming man.”

“What!”

“Didn't you see him? A figure covered in fire. I thought at first someone was in the kitchen when the explosion happened but he didn't fall. If anything he got bigger and stronger and, when Lan shouted, he headed right for him.”

Ray thought for a minute and then said, “Jesus, I wouldn't want to be in Lan's shoes for all the tea in China. We need to help him work out who this ghost is and get the problem sorted permanently. The fucker appears to have got more powerful since last year and I'm wondering how long it's going to be before there’s nothing we can do to keep Lan safe.”

“Yeah, I know. What we don’t know though, is if O’Donnell planted the explosive and the ghost took advantage of that.”

Before Ray could respond, a paramedic came out of the back of the ambulance saying, “We're going to get moving now. Do you need a hand to get inside, Mr Doyle?”

“Can I come too?” Bodie asked.

“It's going to be a bit cramped with three on board.”

“Tell you what,” Bodie suggested, “I'll get a car and bring Ray in for x-ray. You just take the other two.”

There was a look of relief on the paramedics face when he nodded. “Okay. We'll be going to St Thomas'.”

Bodie nodded and hauling Ray into a standing position, he hailed the nearest copper, showing his ID. “Can we get a lift to the hospital?”

“No worries. I'll get a car over right away.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He'd been sitting beside Sean's bed in the A and E department since he'd been brought back from the x-ray department, more than an hour ago. Lan had insisted he go with him, determined not to let them man out of his sight. There had been a bit of an argument but as Lan could point to his clean bill of health and had cited his police authority, they had finally agreed to let him stay in the room with Sean, behind the screens with the radiologist, while the x-rays were being taken.

It was nearly three o’clock in the morning and the A and E department was almost deserted, so he hoped desperately that he was safe from any more supernatural attacks for this year. There was no doubt in his mind that the ghost had been there in the club. Whether he had caused the explosion or not Lan wasn't sure. It might have been a coincidence that the ghost had taken advantage of. Either way, he felt guilty that Sean had been hurt and that Ray and Bodie had been put at risk because of him. He vowed to find out more about this ghost before next year because he obviously wasn't going to leave him alone without a fight. He also wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to be lucky enough to survive Halloween.

With his mind focused on the ghost it wasn't surprising that he jumped when the curtain around the cubicle was pulled to one side. He was more relieved than he could say to see Bodie poke his head through the gap.

“Hey, Lan. How's Sean?”

“He's going to be okay. The doctor says he's got a slight concussion but there's no permanent damage. They want him to stay put for a couple more hours just to be on the safe side, then I can take him home. How’s Ray?”

“His ankle is just bruised, no sign of a break.”

“That’s good but I feel really bad that you two were in danger. I've got to find out how to get rid of him before next year.”

Bodie looked at him steadily. “You saw him too?”

“Yeah. The fucker was covered in flames. He tried to hit us with a couple of fireballs and then he tried to suffocate us. I could feel his fingers around my neck again but this time they felt like they were burning hot. I think he tried to kill Sean too.”

“I suppose that shouldn't come as a surprise,” Bodie muttered.

“I know. The problem is that the fucker is getting stronger and doesn’t seem to care about hurting other people,” Lan said despondently.

“Yeah, well we won’t know for sure if he set off the explosion or it was just a coincidence that he took advantage of until the fire investigation boys have looked over the scene. Which reminds me, I’ve got some really good news.”

“What's that?”

“While I was waiting outside for you and Sean to get out, I spotted Patrick O'Donnell. I managed to grab him and he's under arrest for Rob's murder. Maybe we can pin the explosion on him too.”

Lan couldn't help the big grin that appeared on his face. “That's bloody fantastic. I'll tell Sean when he wakes up.

“You do that. I’ve managed to scrounge up a car so Ray and I will wait around until you’re ready to go home and give you a lift.”

“You don’t need to do that. We can call a taxi.”

“Don’t be daft – that’s what friends are for.”

Lan had to admit it was with a feeling of relief that he finally nodded, “Yeah, okay. That would be great. I’m knackered. And I think it would be better for Sean. It’ll also give me a chance to thank you properly.”

Bodie grinned. “It’s nothing. Like I said, that’s what friends are for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Met is short for Metropolitan Police - the force that covers London and area around it.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adams and family appear in court

**Two months later**

Sean walked down the stairs of the house, his dark suit jacket over one arm and his tie still hanging loose around his neck. “Lan, you in the kitchen?”

“Yeah, just making coffee - you want some?”

“Only if it’s got a shot of whisky in it,” he muttered as he pushed the kitchen door the rest of the way open to see his lover similarly attired in a suit and crisp white shirt.

Lan measured the instant coffee into a mug and added hot water. “I heard that. And not a chance, the last thing we need is to turn up at the Old Bailey smelling of booze.”

Sean snorted, “We’ve been suspended for nearly three months and we know that we are going to lose our jobs so things could hardly get worse. At least the case against Adams and his friends seems watertight.”

“I know all that. But we've been model citizens despite all the provocation, so another day is not going to hurt.”

Sean shrugged. “Months of watching our careers go straight down the toilet, thanks to that piece of shit, Adams. I’m still tempted to top the bastard myself.”

Leaving his coffee on the counter, Lan walked over and stood in front of Sean. Taking the ends of the tie, he began to tie a Windsor knot, something Sean still couldn’t get the hang of.

“Don’t let him win, Sean.” Lan tightened the knot and began to turn Sean’s shirt collar back down. “We’ve put up with three months of hell and now that the trial is beginning, we’re almost free. We can get through this. And then we’ll have all the time in the world to make up our minds what we're going to do next.”

Sean smiled at Lan and pulled him into a hug. “Did I ever thank you for keeping me sane the past few months?”

“Not recently.” Lan grinned.

“In that case I’d better start now.” Sean leaned closer and kissed him. Lan melted into his arms and Sean once again marvelled at how well they fitted together. When Sean finally broke the kiss, Lan staggered slightly and Sean had to grin at the bemused expression on his face. “You okay?”

“No, all my blood has headed south and we don’t have enough time to do anything about it.”

“Who says?”

“Mr Justice Morgan, that’s who.”

“Oh, Jesus, that’s right.” Sean shook his head. “He’s a bastard.”

“Yeah, for procedure. But at least once Adams has been convicted, he’ll make sure the bugger goes down for good.”

“True.” Sean grabbed Lan’s hand and held it to stop him escaping, “And speaking of punishment, I think that when we get home later you might need to punish me for making you hard when we couldn’t do anything about it.”

“Too bloody right I should.”

The look Lan gave him was so hot that Sean’s cock almost leapt to attention and the vow that followed did nothing to make it change its mind. Later Sean promised, later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Two weeks later**

Lan walked down the steps of the Old Bailey, pulling at the tie around his neck, pleased he could at last take the bloody thing off. He glanced over at the crowd of photographers and reporters pinned behind metal barriers and a line of uniformed police. Bloody hyenas, the lot of them. Some of them saw him looking in their direction and shouted out to him, wanting an interview or quote for their rag from the queer ex-copper. 

He thought he’d anticipated the amount of fuss that two senior police officers coming out of the closet would cause, but he’d not even been half right. The shit storm that had been stirred up, had lasted for weeks. It was a good job that Jack had forgotten to take their passports into custody, as they’d managed to get a couple of weeks away from all the media attention by going off to Greece.

Ignoring the crowd gathered outside the court on the final day, Lan looked to his right where Sean was deep in conversation with Jack Cartwright. Still uneasy about Cartwright’s feelings towards Sean, Lan walked over to join them.

Cartwright smiled at him. “See, it’s all over. The jury’s verdict was unanimous. With Adams on his way to Parkhurst for life and Patrick O’Donnell stuck in Broadmoor indefinitely for Rob Newman’s murder, you two are free now to get on with your lives.” He looked a bit embarrassed as he went on, “Anyway speaking of that, a few of the blokes wanted to wish you all the best and figured that as Lan has kept you on the straight and narrow - if you’ll forgive the expression - the past couple of months, Sean, that you could both do with an evening in the pub.”

“Yeah, well, with Tony and Harry Adams looking at being behind bars for the rest of their lives and young Billy doing a five stretch, I think maybe we could.” Sean ran a hand through his hair and scratched irritably at the vest he was wearing under his shirt. “Thank Christ we don’t have to wear these bloody things anymore.”

“Yeah, well, better safe than sorry. We didn’t know that another one of Adams’ family wouldn’t take a pop at the two of you to try to discourage the jury,” Jack said.

“I’m still pissed that Carter wasn’t charged,” Sean growled.

Jack interrupted, “Losing his credibility and pension is better than nothing, and might discourage other coppers from going on the take. At least we managed to confiscate his assets and the place in Spain, so he is looking at spending the rest of his life existing on state benefits.”

“Yeah, and what happened to us is certainly going to encourage any other coppers like us to keep their heads down and pretend to fancy women.”

Jack butted in again before Sean could get fully into a rant. “I know, Sean. The system isn’t perfect but it won’t take long until attitudes change. Anyway, if Carter doesn’t manage to drink himself to death inside six months or Adams doesn’t manage to get to him, he’ll have a lonely old age to look forward to.”

“Forgive me if I don’t hold me bloody breath!”

Lan finally lost his temper. “Jesus, Sean, stop behaving like a real pain in the arse. We knew right from the start that losing our jobs was a possibility so snap out of it!”

Immediately, Sean apologised, “Sorry, I’ve been really tense the past few weeks, being a target isn’t my favourite occupation.” He smiled apologetically at Jack and Lan. “Anyway I’m up for a night at the pub. How about you, Lan?”

“Yeah, why not?” Lan agreed. He was certainly going to be there. As much as he trusted Sean, he still wasn’t sure about Jack Cartwright.

Jack pointed at a car that was just easing into a parking space alongside the metal barriers. “My driver’s here. Let’s go. We’ll drop you home and then meet you at the Red Lion about half seven.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was no getting away from it; he was as pissed as a fart, Sean decided as he staggered through the front door. Lan followed unsteadily, humming to himself. They barely made it to the couch in the living room before collapsing in a tangle of arms and legs, with Sean mostly underneath.

“Jesus, you’re heavy when you’re drunk,” he mumbled against Lan’s ear, taking the opportunity to bite gently on the lobe.

Lan snorted, a very unattractive thing, Sean thought through the alcohol-induced fog permeating his brain.

“Yeah, must be all the beer I’ve drunk making me heavier. You usually tell me I’m skinny.”

He rolled slightly, ending up with Sean completely supporting his weight.

“Yeah, well you are, except when you’ve had a skinful.”

Sean couldn’t avoid the beer breath that wafted into his face.

“The pub was fun. Glad we didn’t go for the curry after though, would probably have been sick, ‘cos we’d have drunk lots of lager there,” Lan mumbled.

Sean could feel Lan relaxing and knew it was only a matter of time before he passed out. 

“C’mon, we need to get to bed, I know I won’t be able to move in the morning if we spend the night here.”

“M’comfy.”

“I know, love.” Digging deep, Sean managed to pull himself into a sitting position, Lan still cradled in his arms.

“Carry me to bed, Seanie.” Lan clung to him like a monkey.

Sean staggered to his feet, nearly tripping over the coffee table as he adjusted to the additional weight.

“Jesus, I am so going to take the piss out of you in the morning,” Sean groaned as he began to negotiate the stairs.

Less than ten minutes later, Sean was undressed and in bed, Lan curled up half on top of him and snoring softly. Before he dropped off to sleep, Sean pressed a kiss to the dark head lying on his chest and whispered, “I love you, Lan. I couldn’t imagine giving everything up for anyone else.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearly done here - just the epilogue to go next week


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New beginnings for Sean and Lan

**Epilogue**  
On a cold, crisp late January morning, four weeks to the day after the end of the Adams court case, Lan watched as Sean exited the house they had called home for more than two years. He waited, leaning on the roof of the car they had bought between them, as Sean locked the door and posted the keys back through the letter box.

Sean looked over at him and smiled. “All set?”

Lan nodded. “Yeah, let’s get going.”

Walking to the driver’s door of the van they’d hired to move their possessions, Sean said, “I’ll follow you.”

“Okay,” Lan agreed. “If we get separated we can stop at the services just past Hungerford to meet up again and take a break.”

“Sounds good to me.” Sean waved as he climbed up into the driver's seat of the van.

Lan slid into the car and started the engine. He drove along the road for the last time with no regrets. Excluding his mum and gran, the most important thing in his world was in the vehicle following him, everything else could be lived without or replaced.

It took nearly an hour before they reached the M4 but once there, Lan began to relax and let his mind wander. It was a big step they were taking, but they had discussed what they should do after the trial and moving out of London and away from the public eye had been their highest priority. They had followed Jack's advice and fortunately, the force, anxious to avoid a costly lawsuit for discrimination, had swiftly offered them the chance for early retirement with a nice lump sum and full pensions. Selling the house in London had financed the purchase of a larger house in Bristol and their pensions meant that they had an income while they waited for their business venture to begin to pay off.

They’d been lucky and found a house they liked on only their second trip to Bristol. They had been even luckier in that it was unoccupied, the previous owners having moved abroad a couple of months before. Everything had fallen into place when a cash buyer had appeared for their old place, meeting their asking price without a murmur.

By the time he turned off the motorway, into the mostly empty service area a good fifty miles from London, and despite some uncertainty over the future, Lan felt that a huge weight had lifted from his shoulders. If asked, he would have said that being a bit further away from Jack Cartwright had helped to improve his piece of mind. Not that Jack had done anything untoward during the months of the Adams case or after. Giving it some thought, Lan now suspected that Jack was confused by his attraction to men and Sean in particular. He also had the complication of a wife and kids to work out, which was bound to make any decision much harder.

He’d kept his speed reasonably low so that Sean, driving the slower and more cumbersome van, wouldn’t fall too far behind. So he’d only been waiting for a few minutes when he saw it pull into the car park in his mirror. Getting out of the car, he locked the door and then headed over to meet his partner.

Sean dropped down out of the van, stretching his arms over his head and causing the sweatshirt he was wearing to rise up and reveal a strip of muscled abdomen between the bottom of it and his jeans. Lan’s mouth was suddenly dry and he knew he was gaping like a fish out of water when he saw the wicked smirk cross Sean’s face. The bastard had done it deliberately.

“For that you can pay for the coffee, you bugger.”

Sean wiped the smile off his face and tried to look innocent. “What? I was just stretching.”

“Yeah right.” Lan moved forward until he was standing very close to Sean and his hands were hidden from any casual observer. He cupped Sean’s balls through his jeans and gave them a gentle squeeze. “And this is me just exercising my hands, after gripping the steering wheel all the way here.”

Sean’s eyes met his and as usual Lan could see unending desire for him there; this was one of the reasons he was sure they were doing the right thing. After more than two years together their passion for each other had not wavered in the slightest.

Shaking his head regretfully Sean said, “I think we ought to declare a truce, because there’s not enough spare room or a flat surface inside the van for us to fuck if we get carried away.”

Lan released him and began to walk over to the restaurant, looking back over his shoulder. “You coming then?”

He saw Sean's mouth quirk up in the prelude to a smart retort before he just smiled and let discretion win. It wasn't often that Lan managed to get the last word but he thought it might be a good indicator of the way their lives were going to change for the better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**A week later**  
Lan stood next to Sean, their shoulders touching as they looked at the small doorway. A discreet brass plaque attached to the wall on the left side of the opening proclaimed Bean and Bloom, Security Consultants.

“Well? What do you think?” Lan asked.

“I think we should have bought a pub,” Sean laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still much more to come in this universe!

**Author's Note:**

> As always if there are any slang terms that are unclear, please let me know.  
> Snout = informant


End file.
